Teresa and Other Poems By James Rhoades |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. | XX
GARPEL GLEN
|
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
 |
 | Teresa and Other Poems |  |
100
XX
GARPEL GLEN
Dear friends, forget not—I shall ne'er forget—
That summer-tide at eve when Garpel's Glen
Lay like an inkblot flung from Nature's pen
Between the sun-bleached uplands; whilst afret
To overleap his mountain parapet
The stream, here curdling like a wisp of wool,
Flung out his gold fleece pendent o'er the pool,
Where, far below, beech, oak, and ilex met.
A spirit-haunted spot! As there we stood,
Behold the form of ancient Solitude!
That, chin on hand, slow-dropping tear on tear,
Sat, Sphinx-like, crouched upon a ledge of stone,
One moment seen; the next his very throne
Had vanished, and the cliff rose stark and sheer.
| Teresa and Other Poems | |