 | The harp and plow |  |
201
LEYDEN GLEN.
When first thro' lonely Leyden Glen
I went the wild surveying,
Its channel'd rocks, its sylvan glooms,
Its brawling torrent playing;
I there an aged man espied,
Beneath a hemlock sitting,
His gaze was on the bubbles bright
That round its roots were flitting.
I went the wild surveying,
Its channel'd rocks, its sylvan glooms,
Its brawling torrent playing;
I there an aged man espied,
Beneath a hemlock sitting,
His gaze was on the bubbles bright
That round its roots were flitting.
‘Beneath this tree,’ the old man said,
‘A maiden and her lover
Once met and linked the tender vows
That death alone may sever.
They saw the future thro' the eye
Of hope's enchanting vision;
And all the world before them lay
A beauteous field elysian.
‘A maiden and her lover
Once met and linked the tender vows
That death alone may sever.
They saw the future thro' the eye
Of hope's enchanting vision;
And all the world before them lay
A beauteous field elysian.
‘Tho’ we on pleasures past may look,
Or backward turn with sorrow,
What know we, creatures of to day,
About the future's morrow?
The maid in all her purity
Went, years ago, to glory;
I yet am here, but youth and love
Have with her fled before me.’
Or backward turn with sorrow,
What know we, creatures of to day,
About the future's morrow?
The maid in all her purity
Went, years ago, to glory;
I yet am here, but youth and love
Have with her fled before me.’
| The harp and plow | |