 | A Sonnet Chronicle |  |
71
To the River Greta
On Returning from Abroad.
Far-wandering had I passed the shoaly bars
Of Latin rivers—seen from Kronion's mound
How old Alpheus' flood possessed the ground
And hushed the jangling of Olympian cars,
There on that height above the hill of Mars
Had watched the grey Ilissus curving round
To Phalĕron, nor felt my heart so bound
As when I heard thee sing beneath the stars.
Of Latin rivers—seen from Kronion's mound
How old Alpheus' flood possessed the ground
And hushed the jangling of Olympian cars,
There on that height above the hill of Mars
Had watched the grey Ilissus curving round
To Phalĕron, nor felt my heart so bound
As when I heard thee sing beneath the stars.
Child of the purple mountain and the moor,
From voiceless stream and fountain waterless
The gods have fled—thou still from Heaven dost come
With grace of dewy song the vale to bless,
And sounding on beneath the poet's door,
Thou givest to all who love thee welcome home.
From voiceless stream and fountain waterless
The gods have fled—thou still from Heaven dost come
With grace of dewy song the vale to bless,
And sounding on beneath the poet's door,
Thou givest to all who love thee welcome home.
| A Sonnet Chronicle | |