The Finding of The Book and Other Poems By William Alexander |
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ST. AUGUSTINE'S RECOLLECTION
OF CASSICIACUM |
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ST. AUGUSTINE'S RECOLLECTION OF CASSICIACUM
‘My one holiday,’ oft the old man cried,
‘When shall a holiday be mine again?’
When the fierce Huns are on the mountain-side,
When he lies sick to death in August—when
The cactus-flowers of Hippo 'neath the blue
Are steep'd with crimson blood-drops through and through;
‘When shall a holiday be mine again?’
When the fierce Huns are on the mountain-side,
When he lies sick to death in August—when
The cactus-flowers of Hippo 'neath the blue
Are steep'd with crimson blood-drops through and through;
When through the date-groves in the scarce-lit dales
Over the Seybous and his dreaming calms,
The importunate sweetness of the nightingales
Disturbs the old man's memory of his psalms,
And a thin thread of scarlet morning breaks
Silently on the Atlantéan peaks.
Over the Seybous and his dreaming calms,
The importunate sweetness of the nightingales
Disturbs the old man's memory of his psalms,
And a thin thread of scarlet morning breaks
Silently on the Atlantéan peaks.
| The Finding of The Book and Other Poems | |