Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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O'ER VINEYARD GROUNDS. |
 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
357
O'ER VINEYARD GROUNDS.
O'er vineyard grounds and orchard-plains
Strange shadow-breadths are thrown;
And a gloom hangs o'er this golden land—
A dull gloom—not its own!
Strange shadow-breadths are thrown;
And a gloom hangs o'er this golden land—
A dull gloom—not its own!
'Tis as some cloud—some gentle cloud
From England's shadowy skies—
Had followed like a tame thing here,
To charm the wanderer's eyes!
From England's shadowy skies—
Had followed like a tame thing here,
To charm the wanderer's eyes!
The golden sunshine brightly laughed,
And won with roseate blaze—
Warm Admiration's lightning glance,
This claims a tearful gaze!
And won with roseate blaze—
Warm Admiration's lightning glance,
This claims a tearful gaze!
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The tears of Love, the sighs of Thought,
This gentle gloom claims now;
The shadow on the sky hath flung
Its shadow o'er my brow!
This gentle gloom claims now;
The shadow on the sky hath flung
Its shadow o'er my brow!
Oh, Love! thy tears, thy clouds, thy shades,
Are, to my Soul, more dear
Than Beauty of a perfect joy,
Without a touch of fear!
Are, to my Soul, more dear
Than Beauty of a perfect joy,
Without a touch of fear!
Soft cloudy Gloom awhile remain,
And speak to me of Home;
I praise these gold Skies' orient blaze,
But love their tenderer gloom!
And speak to me of Home;
I praise these gold Skies' orient blaze,
But love their tenderer gloom!
O'er vineyard-grounds and orchard-plains
Dim shadow-breadths!—brood still!—
Memory can make ye more than bright
With her transforming skill!
Dim shadow-breadths!—brood still!—
Memory can make ye more than bright
With her transforming skill!
359
The beechen grove—the oaken wood—
Start up—before my eyes!—
Delay but yet a little while,
Dim Cloud, in these fair Skies!
Start up—before my eyes!—
Delay but yet a little while,
Dim Cloud, in these fair Skies!
Home-scenes, the dearest of the dear,
May spread before my gaze,
While thou shroud'st up thus graciously,
This stranger-Sun's proud blaze!
May spread before my gaze,
While thou shroud'st up thus graciously,
This stranger-Sun's proud blaze!
Naples.
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |