 | Collected poems |  |
635
THE SONNET OF THE MOUNTAIN
(AFTER MELLIN DE SAINT GELLAIS)
When from afar these mountain tops I view,
I do but mete mine own distress thereby:
High is their head, and my desire is high;
Firm is their foot, my faith is certain too.
I do but mete mine own distress thereby:
High is their head, and my desire is high;
Firm is their foot, my faith is certain too.
E'en as the winds about their summits blue,
From me escapes betimes the wistful sigh;
And as from them the brooks and streamlets hie,
So from mine eyes the tears run down anew.
From me escapes betimes the wistful sigh;
And as from them the brooks and streamlets hie,
So from mine eyes the tears run down anew.
A thousand flocks upon them feed and stray;
As many loves within me see the day,
And all my heart for pasture ground divide.
As many loves within me see the day,
And all my heart for pasture ground divide.
No fruit have they, my lot as fruitless is;
And 'twixt us now nought diverse is but this—
In them the snows, in me the fires abide.
And 'twixt us now nought diverse is but this—
In them the snows, in me the fires abide.
1886.
| Collected poems | |