 | The Autumn Garden |  |
89
III. The Lake
Nevermore sail or oar
Hears the chorus that once bore us
To the shore,
Where the birches shake their tresses
From the outmost sandy nesses.
Hears the chorus that once bore us
To the shore,
Where the birches shake their tresses
From the outmost sandy nesses.
Fare ye well, brae and dell,
And our meadow, deep in shadow!
Never tell
How we loved your pleasant reaches
And the shade of your sleek beeches.
And our meadow, deep in shadow!
Never tell
How we loved your pleasant reaches
And the shade of your sleek beeches.
Hours and hours, sun and showers,
Quiet-breasted, here we rested
By your flowers.
Flowers will fade and life is tragic;
Keep, sweet lake, your breathless magic.
Quiet-breasted, here we rested
By your flowers.
Flowers will fade and life is tragic;
Keep, sweet lake, your breathless magic.
To your shore nevermore
Come we sailing, blithely hailing,
As of yore;
To return would break asunder
All the threads we wove in wonder.
Come we sailing, blithely hailing,
As of yore;
To return would break asunder
All the threads we wove in wonder.
90
Then, adieu! not of you
Shall a broken heart be token,
Wavelets blue!
We must steer our barque of sorrow
To some darker shore to-morrow.
Shall a broken heart be token,
Wavelets blue!
We must steer our barque of sorrow
To some darker shore to-morrow.
Byglandsfjorden,
August 15.
| The Autumn Garden | |