 | Sonnets in Switzerland and Italy |  |
25
AT THE DEGENBALM
MORSCHACH
The brown-leaved walnut's fragrance fills the air,
The fields with wild forget-me-not are blue,
The Frohnalp's beech has donned her tenderest hue,
And Morschach's slope is white with blossoming pear;
And I, uplifted on this mountain-stair,
With Mythen's peaks and Urmi's ridge in view,
Feel how the upland breath can strength renew,
And Degenbalm's sure solace banish care.
The fields with wild forget-me-not are blue,
The Frohnalp's beech has donned her tenderest hue,
And Morschach's slope is white with blossoming pear;
And I, uplifted on this mountain-stair,
With Mythen's peaks and Urmi's ridge in view,
Feel how the upland breath can strength renew,
And Degenbalm's sure solace banish care.
Below my feet the restful village lies,
The church-bell sounds at morn and noon and night,
To bid men walk the way their fathers trod;
While o'er my head grey peaks of glory rise,
And other bells call cheerly from the height
To climb through praise and wonder up to God.
The church-bell sounds at morn and noon and night,
To bid men walk the way their fathers trod;
While o'er my head grey peaks of glory rise,
And other bells call cheerly from the height
To climb through praise and wonder up to God.
| Sonnets in Switzerland and Italy | |