 | Firdausi in Exile and Other Poems |  |
185
OUR WOOD IN WINTER.
The circle of the wind-swept ground
Was paved with beechen leaves around,
Like Nero's golden house in Rome;
While here and there in solemn lines
The dark pilasters of the pines
Bore up the high wood's sombre dome;
Between their shafts, like tapestry flung,
A soft blue vapour fell and hung.
Was paved with beechen leaves around,
Like Nero's golden house in Rome;
While here and there in solemn lines
The dark pilasters of the pines
Bore up the high wood's sombre dome;
Between their shafts, like tapestry flung,
A soft blue vapour fell and hung.
We paused with wonder-taken breath:
It seemed a spot where frost and death
Themselves were chained at nature's feet;
And in the glow of youth and love,—
The coloured floor, the lights above,—
Our hearts, refreshed, with rapture beat;
The beauty thrilled us through and through
And closer to your side I drew.
It seemed a spot where frost and death
Themselves were chained at nature's feet;
And in the glow of youth and love,—
The coloured floor, the lights above,—
Our hearts, refreshed, with rapture beat;
The beauty thrilled us through and through
And closer to your side I drew.
186
Ah, tell me when we both are old,—
On dismal evenings bleak and cold,
When not a spark is in the west,
When love, aweary grown and faint,
Scarce stirs the echo of complaint
Within the sad and labouring breast,—
Ah! tell me then, how once we stood
Transfigured in the gleaming wood.
On dismal evenings bleak and cold,
When not a spark is in the west,
When love, aweary grown and faint,
Scarce stirs the echo of complaint
Within the sad and labouring breast,—
Ah! tell me then, how once we stood
Transfigured in the gleaming wood.
And in a vision I shall turn
To see the fallen beech leaves burn
Reflected in your lifted eyes,
And so for one brief moment gain
The power to cast aside my pain,
And taste once more what time denies;
Nor linger till the dream has fled,
But on your shoulder sink my head.
To see the fallen beech leaves burn
Reflected in your lifted eyes,
And so for one brief moment gain
The power to cast aside my pain,
And taste once more what time denies;
Nor linger till the dream has fled,
But on your shoulder sink my head.
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