 | The poetical remains |  |
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The Lady Isle.
How sweetly wild's yon Isle at night,
When the pale moon streams forth her light;
When Autumn sheds her dews of balm,
And all around is still and calm.
The sea's then like a golden bed,
Whereon some child of Summer's laid;
So darkly brown appears the while,
The lone, romantic Lady Isle.
When the pale moon streams forth her light;
When Autumn sheds her dews of balm,
And all around is still and calm.
The sea's then like a golden bed,
Whereon some child of Summer's laid;
So darkly brown appears the while,
The lone, romantic Lady Isle.
What though on it is never seen
The charming sward of emerald green;
What though appears no wilding flower,
No fairy shade, no rosy bower,
No sweet cascade, no murmuring stream,
Nor couches meet for lover's dream;
Yet there the child of song might smile,
And bless the lonely Lady Isle.
The charming sward of emerald green;
What though appears no wilding flower,
No fairy shade, no rosy bower,
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Nor couches meet for lover's dream;
Yet there the child of song might smile,
And bless the lonely Lady Isle.
When Winter rears his awful form,
And sends abroad the howling storm,
And the lone Isle appears to be
Some bark amid a roaring sea;
When nought is to be seen afar,
But one wide elemental war,
'Tis grand as lightning gleams the while,
To view the lonely Lady Isle.
And sends abroad the howling storm,
And the lone Isle appears to be
Some bark amid a roaring sea;
When nought is to be seen afar,
But one wide elemental war,
'Tis grand as lightning gleams the while,
To view the lonely Lady Isle.
| The poetical remains | |