NIGHT on the German wood - stillness and
On plant, and leaf, save where bent linden trees
Receive the pensive moon-glance on the glade
And nod their heads beneath the lulling breeze.
Now from his hermit home the heron steals -
Mute peering watcher, solemn vigil keeping;
Sullen and lone, strange longing he reveals
To muse on night and sombre Nature sleeping.
Broods he again on Scandinavia's Land,
On visits gone, or summers long ago,
Reviving joys that with the past expand,
Or finding now alone the gloom of woe?
Thus hearts bereft of all love craved to see,
Like hermit watchers 'mid a shrouded scene
Withdraw from themes that live or e'er may be,
To dwell enwrapped with dreams of what have been.
|THE LAST DAY OF POMPEII
|ON A GOLDEN WEDDING