 | The Poetical Works of (Richard Monckton Milnes) Lord Houghton |  |
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III. WRITTEN AT AMALFI.
It is the mid-May Sun, that, rayless and peacefully gleaming,Out of its night's short prison, this blessèd of lands is redeeming;
It is the fire evoked from the hearts of the citron and orange,
So that they hang, like lamps of the day, translucently beaming;
It is the veinless water, and air unsoiled by a vapour,
Save what, out of the fullness of life, from the valley is steaming;
It is the olive that smiles, even he, the sad growth of the moonlight,
Over the flowers, whose breasts triple-folded with odours are teeming;
Yes, it is these bright births, that to me are a shame and an anguish,
They are alive and awake,—I dream, and know I am dreaming;
I cannot bathe my soul in this ocean of passion and beauty,—
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Oh! I am thirsty for Life,—I pant for the freshness of Nature,
Bound in the World's dead sleep—dried up by its treacherous seeming.
| The Poetical Works of (Richard Monckton Milnes) Lord Houghton | |