Poems By William Bell Scott. Ballads, Studies from Nature, Sonnets, etc. Illustrated by Seventeen Etchings by the Author and L. Alma Tadema |
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 | Poems |  |
THE PAST.
Methinks I have passed through some dreadful door,
Shutting off summer and its sunniest glades
From a dank waste of marsh and ruinous shades:
And in that sunlit past, one day before
All other days is crimson to the core;
That day of days when hand in hand became
Encircling arms, and with an effluent flame
Of terrible surprise, we knew love's lore.
Shutting off summer and its sunniest glades
From a dank waste of marsh and ruinous shades:
And in that sunlit past, one day before
All other days is crimson to the core;
That day of days when hand in hand became
Encircling arms, and with an effluent flame
Of terrible surprise, we knew love's lore.
The rose-red ear that then my hand caressed,
Those smiles bewildered, that low voice so sweet,
The truant threads of silk about the brow
Dishevelled, when our burning lips were pressed
Together, and the temple-pulses beat!
All gone now—where am I, and where art thou?
Those smiles bewildered, that low voice so sweet,
The truant threads of silk about the brow
Dishevelled, when our burning lips were pressed
Together, and the temple-pulses beat!
All gone now—where am I, and where art thou?
| Poems | |