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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE TROUBADOUR'S PILGRIMAGE, by THOMAS CAULFIELD IRWIN Poet's Biography First Line: Eastward, moonlit peaks are glancing Last Line: Where rest the spirits loved for ever. | |||
EASTWARD, moonlit peaks are glancing O'er the dusk with silvery eyes; Westward, tracts of Summer forest Deepen down the crimson skies: Pilgrims pass the bridge whose crescent Darkens o'er the gleaming frith, And the noon heat camps its vapour O'er the bronzed moorland's width -- Toll, bell of sunset, toll Over listening land and river; Sing, Memory, to my soul, Of spirits lost, but loved for ever! Toward the norland distance yonder Listening, praying, forth I go; Starry stream and solemn mountain Lure me, shining in their snow; There, within a silent valley, Full of the cold planets' light, Lies the grave to which my fancy, Draming, wanders through the night -- Toll, bell of sunset, toll Over silent land and river; Sing, Memory, to my soul, Of spirits lost, but loved for ever. Onward, where awhile the Summer Slumbers round in twilight blooms -- Waters showering from the summits, Forest full of topaz glooms; Moon and sea beneath me rising, O'er me star and cottage nest -- Sadness in the eastern evening, Music in the golden west -- Toll, bell of sunset, toll Down the gorgeous glooming river; Sing, Memory, to my soul, Of spirits lost, but loved for ever. Wheresoe'er the world I've wandered, Realm of life, or place of tombs; Through the Mediterranean splendours, Through the dumb Egyptian glooms; Radiant spirits round me hover, Watch my rest, or with me stray, While our hearts, in mournful anthems Mingling, close the lonely day -- Toll, bell of evening, toll O'er the starry trembling river; Sing, Memory, to my soul, Of spirits lost, but loved for ever. Oft I hear their charmed voices Lingering round some mountain height; Utterance rich as planet music Swooning through the magic night. Oft great brows of meteor beauty, O'er the star-dim seas appear; Oft in noonlit towns a silence Falling, tells me they are near -- Toll, bell of darkness, toll Fate like, down the ghostly river; Sing, Memory, to my soul, Of spirits lost, but loved for ever. Upward, where the moulder'd castle Guards the quick, unquiet fords, All its moated depths of waters, Glossed with beams, like blades of swords: Now the lowland's dark expansure Widens from the mountain crest; And a low star lights the valley, Where my pilgrim heart would rest -- Toll, bell of silence, toll Down the silver rippled river; Sing, Memory, to my soul, Of spirits lost, but loved for ever. By this well, that bubbles sprayless, Shall I rest upon my way: Earth is broadening in shadow -- Heaven in brightness, while I pray. 'Blessed spirits, rise above me, When the death-dark round me flows, Like a crescent o'er the sunset, Beaconing where the glory goes.' Toll, bell of Heaven, toll Down the sapphire radiant river. God, waft my trembling soul Where rest the spirits loved for ever. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MINNIE by THOMAS CAULFIELD IRWIN THE FAERIE'S CHILD by THOMAS CAULFIELD IRWIN THE POTATO DIGGER'S SONG by THOMAS CAULFIELD IRWIN THE VINE SONG, FR. THE MINSTREL'S APPOINTMENT by THOMAS CAULFIELD IRWIN WITHE THE DAWN by THOMAS CAULFIELD IRWIN CHAMBER MUSIC: 29 by JAMES JOYCE SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: WILLIAM JONES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS MOTLEY: THE GHOST by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE ONCE BEFORE by MARY ELIZABETH MAPES DODGE |
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