Sonnets written chiefly during a tour through Holland, Germany, Italy, Turkey, and Hungary. By Lady Emmeline Stuart Wortley |
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THE VALLEY OF THE SWEET WATERS. |
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209
THE VALLEY OF THE SWEET WATERS.
Bright Valley of Sweet Waters!—where
But green trees cloud the all-sunny air;
And rippling music, soft and low,
Make the clear waves in their calm flow!
But green trees cloud the all-sunny air;
And rippling music, soft and low,
Make the clear waves in their calm flow!
'Tis there the emerald turf is fair,
The river-banks are smiling there;
The beauty of a bright repose
All the sylvan scenery knows.
The river-banks are smiling there;
The beauty of a bright repose
All the sylvan scenery knows.
There Earth and Heaven appear as one;
The Heaven all Rose!—the Earth all Sun!—
And, as in that heaven so in this,
All, all is Beauty—all is Bliss!
The Heaven all Rose!—the Earth all Sun!—
And, as in that heaven so in this,
All, all is Beauty—all is Bliss!
Green Valley of Sweet Waters!—where
The mightiest hath his dwelling fair!
A shadowy bower—a green retreat,
The King of Kings' own Palaced Seat.
The mightiest hath his dwelling fair!
A shadowy bower—a green retreat,
The King of Kings' own Palaced Seat.
210
Bright Valley of Sweet Waters!—long
May the echoes of the liquid song,
Resounding through thy haunts serene,
Thrill—pauses of my strain between!
May the echoes of the liquid song,
Resounding through thy haunts serene,
Thrill—pauses of my strain between!
Far from the steaming city's ways,
Far from those haunts where discord preys,
Green Valley of Sweet Waters!—thou
Shedd'st peace along the stormiest brow!
Far from those haunts where discord preys,
Green Valley of Sweet Waters!—thou
Shedd'st peace along the stormiest brow!
Green Valley of Sweet Waters!—love
Must surely brood those scenes above,
Where all is beauteous—there we know
His Presence 'tis that spreads the glow.
Must surely brood those scenes above,
Where all is beauteous—there we know
His Presence 'tis that spreads the glow.
From Stamboul's busy chaos-mart,
Into this Eden of the Heart,
'Tis well, indeed, in peace to pass—
While Thought's vexed Seas grow smooth as glass!
Into this Eden of the Heart,
'Tis well, indeed, in peace to pass—
While Thought's vexed Seas grow smooth as glass!
Constantinople.
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