How strangely on that haunted morn Was from the West a vision born, Madeira from the blue! Sweet Heavens! how fairy-like and fair Those headlands shaped themselves in air, That magic mountain grew! I clomb the hills; but where was gone The illusion and the joy thereon, The glamour and the gleam? My nameless need I hardly wist, And missing knew not what I missed, Bewildered in a dream. And then I found her; ah, and then On amethystine glade and glen The soft light shone anew; On windless labyrinths of pine, Seaward, and past the grey sea-line, To isles beyond the view. 'Twas something pensive, 'twas a sense Of solitude, of innocence, Of bliss that once had been;— Interpretress of earth and skies, She looked with visionary eyes The Spirit of the scene. Oh not again, oh never more I must assail the enchanted shore, Nor these regrets destroy, Which still my hidden heart possess With dreams too dear for mournfulness, Too vanishing for joy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE MILLINER by ROBERT WILLIAMS BUCHANAN THE IRISH RAPPAREES; A PEASANT BALLAD OF 1691 by CHARLES GAVAN DUFFY MUSKETAQUID by RALPH WALDO EMERSON TO SPAIN - A LAST WORD by EDITH MATILDA THOMAS STARTING FROM PAUMANOK by WALT WHITMAN KENTUCKY BELLE by CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON THE LIFE OF MAN by FRANCIS BACON THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE MAN OF LAW'S TALE - THE EPILOGUE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE PROLOGUE OF THE MONK'S TALE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |