| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 812. Blue Hills beneath the Haze |
| | | By Charles Goodrich Whiting |
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| BLUE hills beneath the haze | |
| That broods o’er distant ways, | |
| Whether ye may not hold | |
| Secrets more dear than gold,— | |
| This is the ever new | 5 |
| Puzzle within your blue. | |
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| Is ’t not a softer sun | |
| Whose smiles yon hills have won? | |
| Is ’t not a sweeter air | |
| That folds the fields so fair? | 10 |
| Is ’t not a finer rest | |
| That I so fain would test? | |
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| The far thing beckons most, | |
| The near becomes the lost. | |
| Not what we have is worth, | 15 |
| But that which has no birth | |
| Or breath within the ken | |
| Of transitory men. | |
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