 | Sacra Poesis |  |
VIEW OF TINTERN ABBEY BY MOONLIGHT.
There is a beauty for the cheek,
Which nought can give but sorrow:
Where lingering on the joyless face,
The burning tear has worn a trace,
And Patience, eloquently meek,
In sweet submission can but speak
That “hapless as to To-day has been,
“And hapless yesterday's sad scene,
“'Twill dawn as dark To-morrow.”
Which nought can give but sorrow:
Where lingering on the joyless face,
The burning tear has worn a trace,
And Patience, eloquently meek,
In sweet submission can but speak
That “hapless as to To-day has been,
“And hapless yesterday's sad scene,
“'Twill dawn as dark To-morrow.”
9
And sadly smiles the moon's cold ray
On Tintern's arched stories;
As when upon a broken heart
The saddening beams of memory dart,
Yet cannot warm it,—cannot say,
“We'll give thee back to bliss to-day;”—
So beam'd the pale moon on the pile,
And bathed in light each vaulted aisle,
To show—its ruin'd glories!
On Tintern's arched stories;
As when upon a broken heart
The saddening beams of memory dart,
Yet cannot warm it,—cannot say,
“We'll give thee back to bliss to-day;”—
So beam'd the pale moon on the pile,
And bathed in light each vaulted aisle,
To show—its ruin'd glories!
But oft at noon the gladd'ning sun
His genial ray sheds o'er them;
And thus upon that same sad heart
The beams of heavenly love may dart,
And shew it that its grief is done!
And, when the gaol of life is won,
The Sun of righteousness may rise
To bathe in bliss those tearful eyes,
And set all heav'n before them.
His genial ray sheds o'er them;
And thus upon that same sad heart
The beams of heavenly love may dart,
And shew it that its grief is done!
And, when the gaol of life is won,
The Sun of righteousness may rise
To bathe in bliss those tearful eyes,
And set all heav'n before them.
A crumbling ruin,—and a broken heart,
The poetry of nature and of art!
Both are sublime,—both beautiful,—and seem
Like the dim outline of a dreadful dream.
The poetry of nature and of art!
Both are sublime,—both beautiful,—and seem
Like the dim outline of a dreadful dream.
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