ELEANORE.
27
To thee, with fruitage goldenrinded
On golden salvers, or it may be,
Youngest Autumn, in a bower
Grapethickened from the light, and blinded
With many a deephued bell-like flower
Of fragrant trailers, when the air
Sleepeth over all the heaven,
And the crag that fronts the Even,
All along the shadowing shore,
Crimsons over an inland meer,
Eleanore!
On golden salvers, or it may be,
Youngest Autumn, in a bower
Grapethickened from the light, and blinded
With many a deephued bell-like flower
Of fragrant trailers, when the air
Sleepeth over all the heaven,
And the crag that fronts the Even,
All along the shadowing shore,
Crimsons over an inland meer,
Eleanore!
How may fullsailed verse express,
How may measured words adore
The fullflowing harmony
Of thy swanlike stateliness,
Eleänore?
The luxuriant symmetry
Of thy floating gracefulness,
Eleänore?
How may measured words adore
The fullflowing harmony
Of thy swanlike stateliness,
Eleänore?
The luxuriant symmetry
Of thy floating gracefulness,
Eleänore?
