The Last Crusade and Other Poems | ||
147
[The nightingale is silent, and the wind]
The nightingale is silent, and the windSleeps on the forest's bosom; silvery mist
Enfolds the vale and woodland glades behind
The distant mere; the leaves have fainted—hist!
'Twas but a dewdrop that a moonbeam kist;
One spirit holds its peace between the trees,
The mountains and the stars; and in my soul
Swells, like the mingling of a thousand seas,
Hushed into calm by their own melodies,
The vast, harmonious silence of the whole.
The Last Crusade and Other Poems | ||