Sonnets at the English Lakes | ||
29
XXIX. AT WRAY COTTAGE.
Never was Peace so absolute; you may hearThe dews descending as the shadow moves;
The toying butterflies tell forth their loves;
From yonder heights, if some child-mountaineer
Cried, Echo's voice would ripple the still mere,
And fill with wonder silent forest-groves;
Yea, our own heart would flutter like a dove's
If but in Heaven a cloudlet should appear.
The farms stand vacant, fields half-harvested,
Along the vale no herdsman's cry is sent;
You could believe the shepherds all had fled
Beyond the hills for life and merriment;
And down the gossamer's slow-sailing thread
Flashed the one thought in rainbow hues—Content!
Sonnets at the English Lakes | ||