 | New songs of innocence |  |
32
THE WHITE PEACE.
Turret and battlemented wall
Are picked out white with snow,
And roofs of slate, and tiles, and all
The straggling sheds below.
On all alike it lies, and stills
Their motley discord down;
One wide white peace harmonious fills
The temple of the town.
Are picked out white with snow,
And roofs of slate, and tiles, and all
The straggling sheds below.
On all alike it lies, and stills
Their motley discord down;
One wide white peace harmonious fills
The temple of the town.
As noiseless o'er the muffled street
The hurrying figures go,
The chariots with their coursers fleet,
The wagons creeping slow,
Wild fancies in their elfin hosts
My brain begins to hive—
This is a city, sure, of ghosts,
And we alone alive!
The hurrying figures go,
The chariots with their coursers fleet,
The wagons creeping slow,
Wild fancies in their elfin hosts
My brain begins to hive—
This is a city, sure, of ghosts,
And we alone alive!
Are we alive? For answer slips
A nestling hand in mine,
And bravely in the stars' eclipse
My Willie's blue eyes shine.
Earth may dissolve beneath our feet,
And heaven be hid above,
But there's a refuge safe and sweet
In living human love!
A nestling hand in mine,
And bravely in the stars' eclipse
My Willie's blue eyes shine.
Earth may dissolve beneath our feet,
And heaven be hid above,
But there's a refuge safe and sweet
In living human love!
| New songs of innocence | |