 | Carol and Cadence |  |
11.
I never yet might see the primrose-faces
But needs must dream
Of things which are beyond the spheral spaces
And here but seem.
But needs must dream
Of things which are beyond the spheral spaces
And here but seem.
They are so pure, so pale, so wan, so wistful,
Here in earth's mire
To see them makes mine eyes perforce wax mistful
With wandesire.
Here in earth's mire
To see them makes mine eyes perforce wax mistful
With wandesire.
To mark them, patient eyes to heaven upturning
From their green plot,
I feel my world-worn heart brim up with yearning
Nor know for what.
From their green plot,
I feel my world-worn heart brim up with yearning
Nor know for what.
14
But this I know; they, too, are exiles, banished
From heaven, like me,
And lift vain eyes to where their loveland vanished
They think to see.
From heaven, like me,
And lift vain eyes to where their loveland vanished
They think to see.
| Carol and Cadence | |