THE circle of the wind-swept ground Was paved with beechen leaves around, Like Nero's golden house in Rome; While here and there in solemn lines The dark pilasters of the pines Bore up the high wood's sombre dome; Between their shafts, like tapestry flung, A soft blue vapour fell and hung. We paused with wonder-taken breath: It seemed a spot where frost and death Themselves were chained at Nature's feet; And in the glow of youth and love, -- The coloured floor, the lights above, -- Our hearts, refreshed, with rapture beat; The beauty thrilled us through and through, And closer to your side I drew. Ah, tell me, when we both are old, -- On dismal evenings bleak and cold, When not a spark is in the west, When love, aweary grown and faint, Scarce stirs the echo of complaint Within the sad and labouring breast, -- Ah! tell me then, how once we stood Transfigured in the gleaming wood. And in a vision I shall turn To see the fallen beech-leaves burn Reflected in your lifted eyes, And so for one brief moment gain The power to cast aside my pain, And taste once more what time denies Nor linger till the dream has fled, But on your shoulder sink my head. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MAD GARDENER'S SONG by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON THE PROGRESS OF POESY; A PINDARIC ODE by THOMAS GRAY HYMN TO THE NAIADS by MARK AKENSIDE PSALM 13 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE NIAGARA by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD PARLEYINGS WITH CERTAIN PEOPLE OF IMPORTANCE: APOLLO AND THE FATES by ROBERT BROWNING |