 | Sonnets in Switzerland and Italy |  |
109
A RETURN TO ST. BEATENBERG
Once more the crags of Niederhorn we greet,
And face to face the snowy giants rise;
Once more the lake a hundred thousand dyes
Of peacock-green is stretched beneath our feet.
There sits the young wood-carver in his seat;
Fresh from the block, and with the same surprise,
The chamois gazes; here the goathoy hies,
And there the milkman that we used to meet.
And face to face the snowy giants rise;
Once more the lake a hundred thousand dyes
Of peacock-green is stretched beneath our feet.
There sits the young wood-carver in his seat;
Fresh from the block, and with the same surprise,
The chamois gazes; here the goathoy hies,
And there the milkman that we used to meet.
Thrice happy hill! the same far cuckoo calls,
The same shrill cricket chirps his noontide cheer,
The same light gleams on yonder water's breast—
The only change beneath your sheltering walls
Are these tired hearts that hither come for rest,
To find the balm of constant friendship here.
The same shrill cricket chirps his noontide cheer,
The same light gleams on yonder water's breast—
The only change beneath your sheltering walls
Are these tired hearts that hither come for rest,
To find the balm of constant friendship here.
| Sonnets in Switzerland and Italy | |