 | Poems by William Wetmore Story |  |
230
AT PEACE.
'T is twilight! the murmurous voices
Of maidens that stroll with their lovers
Beneath the dark ilex's shadows
Come faint to my ear.
Of maidens that stroll with their lovers
Beneath the dark ilex's shadows
Come faint to my ear.
No cloud in the soft azure heaven
Is floating—the moon in its fulness
Looks down with a mild face of pity,
And night holds its breath.
Is floating—the moon in its fulness
Looks down with a mild face of pity,
And night holds its breath.
Innumerous under the grasses
The grilli are ceaselessly chirping,
Above them the luccioli lighten,
And all is at peace!
The grilli are ceaselessly chirping,
Above them the luccioli lighten,
And all is at peace!
At peace! ay, the peace of the desert!
The silence, the deep desolation,
That comes when the blast has swept o'er us
And buried our hopes.
The silence, the deep desolation,
That comes when the blast has swept o'er us
And buried our hopes.
At peace! when the music that thrilled us,
The hand that its harmonies wakened,
The voice that was soul to the singing,
Alike are at rest!
The hand that its harmonies wakened,
The voice that was soul to the singing,
Alike are at rest!
231
At peace! ay, the peace of the ocean,
When past is the storm where we foundered,
And morning looks o'er the blank waters,
And hears but their moan!
When past is the storm where we foundered,
And morning looks o'er the blank waters,
And hears but their moan!
| Poems by William Wetmore Story | |