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32
POEMS AND LYRICS.
Recollected of this glad isle
Still quaking. But now more fair,
And momently fraying the while
The veil of the shadows there.
Soft Enna that prostrate grief
Sang through, and revealed round the vines,
Bronze-orange, the crisp young leaf,
The wheat-blades tripping in lines,
A hue unillumined by sun
Of the flowers flooding grass as from founts:
All the penetrable dun
Of the Morn ere she mounts.
III.
Nor had saffron and sapphire and red
Waved aloft to their sisters below,
When gaped by the rock-channel head
