Sonnets Round the Coast by H. D. Rawnsley |
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A RETROSPECT FROM MAWDDACH CRAG. |
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Sonnets Round the Coast | ||
68
VI. A RETROSPECT FROM MAWDDACH CRAG.
Once more I sit on Mawddach's craggy heightAnd hear the green grasshopper at his fun;
Mad fellow he, with hawkweed for his sun,
Whose stars by day—he knows not any night—
Are clustered saxifrages. His delight
Fills me: my days far inland back have run,
I feel as if some wizard hand had spun
My cares, my age, my sorrow, out of sight.
But as I gaze, the emerald tide beneath
Shrinks, and to clouded azure seems to turn,
And from the depths the barren sands arise;
And I—again the tears are in mine eyes—
I know my years are flowing out to death,
Are leaving sand and shallow, and I mourn.
Sonnets Round the Coast | ||