40
POEMS.
I knew your taper far away.
My heart was full of trembling hope.
Down from the wold I came and lay
Upon the dewyswarded slope.
My heart was full of trembling hope.
Down from the wold I came and lay
Upon the dewyswarded slope.
XV.
The white chalkquarry from the hill
Upon the broken ripple gleamed,
I murmured lowly, sitting still
While round my feet the eddy streamed:
"Oh! that I were the wreath she wreathes,
The mirror where her sight she feeds,
The song she sings, the air she breathes,
The letters of the book she reads."
The white chalkquarry from the hill
Upon the broken ripple gleamed,
I murmured lowly, sitting still
While round my feet the eddy streamed:
"Oh! that I were the wreath she wreathes,
The mirror where her sight she feeds,
The song she sings, the air she breathes,
The letters of the book she reads."
XVI.
Sometimes I saw you sit and spin,
And, in the pauses of the wind,
Sometimes I heard you sing within,
Sometimes your shadow crossed the blind.
Sometimes I saw you sit and spin,
And, in the pauses of the wind,
Sometimes I heard you sing within,
Sometimes your shadow crossed the blind.
