 | Sonnets in Switzerland and Italy |  |
39
GOLD-BODEN
ENGELBERG
Here, in this meadow of the cloth of gold,
Great sovereigns meet, the white-robed Winter-King
And the green-kirtled, glad, triumphant Spring,
A celebration of their peace to hold.
Not, as for mortal kings in days of old,
The shout of hosts and cannons booming bring
Applause; the cataracts roar them welcoming,
The avalanche thunder in their ears is rolled.
Great sovereigns meet, the white-robed Winter-King
And the green-kirtled, glad, triumphant Spring,
A celebration of their peace to hold.
Not, as for mortal kings in days of old,
The shout of hosts and cannons booming bring
Applause; the cataracts roar them welcoming,
The avalanche thunder in their ears is rolled.
With silver clouds for banners, lo! the skies
In blue pavilioned splendour overhead
Shine, and beneath are jewelled tapestries
Such as no earthly kings did ever tread,
For all sweet flowers have hither flung their dyes,
A royal carpet for their feet to spread.
In blue pavilioned splendour overhead
Shine, and beneath are jewelled tapestries
Such as no earthly kings did ever tread,
For all sweet flowers have hither flung their dyes,
A royal carpet for their feet to spread.
| Sonnets in Switzerland and Italy | |