 | Lyra Pastoralis |  |
On an Unfrequented Tarn
O solitary Tarn, uplifted high,Seen only once, and left, alas! too soon:
For ever silvered with the rising moon,
For ever crimsoned with the sunset sky,
80
(A moment's vision, but a lifetime's boon):
While Memory's ear retains the soft low tune
Which to the breeze thy circling rushes sigh.
Have other eyes beheld thine evening glory?
Have other ears caught thy sweet undersong?
Or art thou lost amid these summits hoary,
Unheeded as the ages roll along?
What then? 'Twas God ordained thy humble story;
To be content and smile to thee belong!
| Lyra Pastoralis | |