![]() | Sonnets at the English Lakes | ![]() |
92
XCII. MOON-RISE OVER WANSFELL.
Not yet Orion's stride we fully knewWhen Eastward, lo! the stars were in retreat!
Imperious, summoning all eyes to greet,
Above Wansfell the Moon to beauty grew;
So near she swam, so bright, so close in view,
We almost saw her faint old heart-pulse beat,
As, making darkness darker at her feet,
In train to Heaven the obsequious hill she drew.
Shall she not lead the earth who draws the tide?
E'en as I spoke she reached a glittering hand
Across the waters, and from side to side
Was grown a raft, by mystic moonlight planned;
And o'er the tremulous bridge of gold supplied
Came trooping elves of Frost, with gifts from Fairyland.
![]() | Sonnets at the English Lakes | ![]() |