 | Poems |  |
58
THE DESERT.
No shining grass, or sunny tree,
Or smiling Villa greets my eyes,
No forms of fair society,
Or gentle domesticities,
The scanty furze grows yellow all,
Like threadbare Tapestry on the wall.
Or smiling Villa greets my eyes,
No forms of fair society,
Or gentle domesticities,
The scanty furze grows yellow all,
Like threadbare Tapestry on the wall.
But here I wandered most content,
With one fair spirit by my side,
A Sister to my manhood lent
Her beaming eyes of maiden pride,
And clothed the drear rock's loneliness
With her abiding tenderness.
With one fair spirit by my side,
A Sister to my manhood lent
Her beaming eyes of maiden pride,
And clothed the drear rock's loneliness
With her abiding tenderness.
59
So should she drape the World's wide round,
With sunny robes, and fresh Spring weather
And consecrate the loneliest ground,
While we went wandering linked together,
Her music voice, her beaming eyes,
Give to the Silence, glad replies.
With sunny robes, and fresh Spring weather
And consecrate the loneliest ground,
While we went wandering linked together,
Her music voice, her beaming eyes,
Give to the Silence, glad replies.
Thy sandy hills, bleak desert Waste,
Now murmur soft like singing streams,
Thy lonely Moors with music taste
Like temples clad in Grecian dreams,
Thou Desert, art a living thing,
Since she and I went wandering.
Now murmur soft like singing streams,
Thy lonely Moors with music taste
Like temples clad in Grecian dreams,
Thou Desert, art a living thing,
Since she and I went wandering.
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