 | The poems posthumous and collected of Thomas Lovell Beddoes |  |
XXXIX. A Day of surpassing Beauty.
The earth is bright, her forests all are golden;A cloud of flowers breathes blushing over her,
And, whispering from bud to blossom, opens
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She heard in childhood from the mystic sun.
There is some secret stirring in the world,
A thought that seeks impatiently its word:
A crown, or cross, for one is born to day.
| The poems posthumous and collected of Thomas Lovell Beddoes | |