 | Voices from the Lakes, and Other Poems |  |
304
SONNET. THE SAME.
You cannot find throughout this world, I ween,Waters so fair as those within this cave,
Colour like that which flashes from the wave;
Or which is steeped in such cerulean sheen
As here gleams forth within this Grotto's screen.
And when the oar the boatman gently takes
And dips it in the flood, a fiery glow,
Ruddy as phosphor stirs in depths below;
Each ripple into burning splendour breaks,
As tho' some hidden fires beneath did lie
Waiting a touch to kindle into flame,
And shine in radiance on the dazzled eye,
As sparkling up from wells of light they came,
To make this Grot a glory far and nigh.
| Voices from the Lakes, and Other Poems | |