Poems (Van Vorst)/On the Norman Cliffs
ON THE NORMAN CLIFFS
The summer fields sweep to the farther blue Crimson with poppies, yellow gold with grain. They roll their warm wealth seaward—thus to you I bring my boundless love. Dearest, in vain Would I bestow its treasure otherwhere; It floods to find your heart—enfold it there!
The land's caress the far seas never knew; Not on the wave falls the sweet rain of gold. Far lie the changeful waters, pure and cold,Sundered by the high cliffs: thus I from you By Fate am kept a universe apart. And yet my constant thought inspires me To seek to lay my love upon your heart.