Idyls and Songs by Francis Turner Palgrave: 1848-1854 |
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XXVIII. |
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XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
XXXII. |
XXXIII. |
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XXXV. |
XXXVI. |
XXXVII. |
XXXVIII. |
XXXIX. |
XL. |
XLI. |
XLII. |
XLIII. |
XLIV. |
XLV. |
XLVI. |
XLVII. |
XLIX. |
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LI. |
LII. |
LIII. |
LIV. |
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LVI. |
LVII. |
LVIII. |
LIX. |
LX. |
LXI. |
LXIII. |
LXIII. |
LXIV. |
LXV. |
LXVI. |
LXVII. |
LXVIII. |
LXIX. |
LXX. |
LXXI. |
LXXII. |
LXXIII. |
LXXIV. |
LXXV. |
LXXVI. |
LXXVII. |
LXXVIII. |
LXXIX. |
LXXX. |
LXXXII. |
Idyls and Songs | ||
But again
Amid the linnet-notes, that fill'd the hush,
Sweet symphonies of Nature, when the heart
Stays in its music, and the pause affrights:—
Gaily that old man greeted him: then said:—
‘Things are not so with us, in this calm nook
Of quiet hearts, as ofttime 'tis with those
Whose chattering chorus welcomes in a friend,
While telling equals asking:—we have all
To learn from you: little or nought to give:
That little, yours already. Long, too long,
And Bianca will confirm it,—for this day
We've waited. Now 'tis here. Well. Why, 'tis well:
Time's hand was weighty on me. Satis. Hence:
The summer-house, your old unalter'd haunt
Again should hear your voice:—your feet, I see,
Themselves would guide you thither.’
Amid the linnet-notes, that fill'd the hush,
Sweet symphonies of Nature, when the heart
17
Gaily that old man greeted him: then said:—
‘Things are not so with us, in this calm nook
Of quiet hearts, as ofttime 'tis with those
Whose chattering chorus welcomes in a friend,
While telling equals asking:—we have all
To learn from you: little or nought to give:
That little, yours already. Long, too long,
And Bianca will confirm it,—for this day
We've waited. Now 'tis here. Well. Why, 'tis well:
Time's hand was weighty on me. Satis. Hence:
The summer-house, your old unalter'd haunt
Again should hear your voice:—your feet, I see,
Themselves would guide you thither.’
Idyls and Songs | ||