Southern garland . , wild days ? Where is your magic that w^as wont to beFlushed on the summits in the morning rays And in the twilight of the western sea ?Where are the hearts that thrilled for Rosalind ? Where are the eyes that Celia has blest ?Why do we beat the air for ever dinned With the great anguish of a great unrest ? Return, O Time ! the jewels thou hast thieved: Though Shafcespear come not (he is a caressFor the fond spirit) surely we have grieved Even enough to move a gods distress :Return the ark of life, the large domain Over all gaiety, the wine, the song:Even if Pan shall never
Southern garland . , wild days ? Where is your magic that w^as wont to beFlushed on the summits in the morning rays And in the twilight of the western sea ?Where are the hearts that thrilled for Rosalind ? Where are the eyes that Celia has blest ?Why do we beat the air for ever dinned With the great anguish of a great unrest ? Return, O Time ! the jewels thou hast thieved: Though Shafcespear come not (he is a caressFor the fond spirit) surely we have grieved Even enough to move a gods distress :Return the ark of life, the large domain Over all gaiety, the wine, the song:Even if Pan shall never rule again. May we not smile at life, alert and strong ? If every leaf w^ithin the wild Ardennes, If every brook that babbles to the deerMurmurs the charm that lulled the forest glens. Shall we not sit, and dream, and love, and hear ?Sweetness and light to spirits that are dim. Sad with the whole of querulous with the music of the sylvan hymn Lost in Joys rosy-tangled wilderness. Che TRYST Ulcst Ulind. F it be foul or be fair— If the wind has bewildered the hoursWith eternal despoil of the a calm has encompassed the air Like the moon rising slow^ over towers,It is tryst-day, and I shall be there. As I pass by the moss-girdled posts A butterfly wavers piloting green shoals and coasts Of branches whose blossoms respondTo the glance of my soul with a scentThat for Love its arcana has spent. If Loves shadow^ lay over the Rose, Then the sun w^ere no more her desire: So my Heart with its melody goes From the w^orld to the shade of the briar, Where a bird that has fluttered the field In his flight folds of joy has unreeled. O Heart! so full of sunshine and of rain, Joy and cloud pavilions of the gods are strewn With the moon,A canopy for Love that trailing bends Tasselled ends . . All the light that palpitates through fretted waves Into the songs the mermaids sing where the w^eeds Are their bredes,All the magic of the turret cl
Size: 1581px × 1581px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidsoutherngarl, bookyear1904
