Amenophis and Other Poems Sacred and Secular by Francis T. Palgrave |
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![]() | Amenophis and Other Poems Sacred and Secular | ![]() |
197
XXIX
FROM LUCERNE
If I could put my love in words,
Would I pour out to Thee
A sweeter song than any yet
Was sung by bird on tree:—
Would I pour out to Thee
A sweeter song than any yet
Was sung by bird on tree:—
Here, where the many-pointed Mount
That wears the cap on high,
Pale against paler air, builds up
His snows beneath the sky;—
That wears the cap on high,
Pale against paler air, builds up
His snows beneath the sky;—
Or where, above an English sea,
Our green hills fringe the bay,
The long sweet hours of eve we sit,
Till golden fades to gray.
Our green hills fringe the bay,
The long sweet hours of eve we sit,
Till golden fades to gray.
—But as who, at some shrine long-sought,
Would speak, but cannot dare,
So much the Presence overawes
The pilgrim and the prayer;
Would speak, but cannot dare,
So much the Presence overawes
The pilgrim and the prayer;
So am I mute:—Yet, to the soul
Can that dumb silence tell
In words beyond art's choicest art,
How well I love,—how well!
Can that dumb silence tell
In words beyond art's choicest art,
How well I love,—how well!
May, 1885
![]() | Amenophis and Other Poems Sacred and Secular | ![]() |