 | The White Pilgrim and Other Poems |  |
148
MY SECRET.
I would not breathe my darling's name
To sea below, or sky above;
To Nature's spies I'll ne'er proclaim
The golden secret of my love.
To sea below, or sky above;
To Nature's spies I'll ne'er proclaim
The golden secret of my love.
In vain the stream its murmur stills,
That secret from my breast to steal,
And lurks amid the treacherous hills,
If echo might her name reveal.
That secret from my breast to steal,
And lurks amid the treacherous hills,
If echo might her name reveal.
In vain the wind mine ear deceives,
Hushed its rude voice in whisper low,
Eavesdropping through the tell-tale leaves
To hear her praises as I go.
Hushed its rude voice in whisper low,
Eavesdropping through the tell-tale leaves
To hear her praises as I go.
The image in my soul enshrined
Lip-service of the best would shame;
To babbling stream, or wanton wind,
I will not breathe my darling's name.
Lip-service of the best would shame;
To babbling stream, or wanton wind,
I will not breathe my darling's name.
| The White Pilgrim and Other Poems | |