Legends of the Morrow | ||
72
UNREST.
Is this a remnant of old ParadiseWhere now a shivering, dimpled river creeps,
Driven out from bliss, between these desert steeps,
Pine-armed and bristling to the loveless skies,
No heaven above but where the wild flocks rise,
No world below but where the torrent leaps
And down green steps of dripping foliage sweeps
The writhing gulph that ever rest denies
73
From Paradise the once offending pair,
To find a peaceful sky by rough winds riven,
And look above through the mist-threaded air,
That wanders 'twixt the mountain-tops and Heaven
To weave for evermore a world's despair.
Legends of the Morrow | ||