Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LOVE AND NATURE, by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

LOVE AND NATURE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Thou, that wert wont at nature's shrine
Last Line: Are now the dearest sights I know.
Alternate Author Name(s): Houghton, 1st Baron; Houghton, Lord
Subject(s): Love; Nature


I.

"THOU, that wert wont at Nature's shrine
To worship all the year,
Say are her features less divine,
Her attitudes less dear?
Or if her beauty's still the same,
Then thou art dull and slow:
She must be sooth a gentle dame
To let thee woo her so."

"'Tis not, sweet friend! that I forget
The charms of vale and hill:
Sunset and dawn are lovely yet, --
But thou art lovelier still:
I prize the talk of summer brooks,
The mountain's graver tone;
But can I give them thoughts and looks
That are of right thine own?"

II.

The Sun came through the frosty mist
Most like a dead-white moon;
Thy soothing tones I seemed to list,
As voices in a swoon.

Still as an island stood our ship,
The waters gave no sound,
But when I touched thy quivering lip,
I felt the world go round.

We seemed the only sentient things
Upon that silent sea:
Our hearts the only living springs
Of all that yet could be!

III.

Till death the tide of thought may stem,
There's little chance of our forgetting
The highland tarn, the water-gem,
With all its rugged mountain-setting.

Our spirits followed every cloud
That o'er it, and within it, floated;
Our joy in all the scene was loud,
Yet one thing silently we noted:

That, though the glorious summer hue
That steep'd the heav'ns could scarce be brighter,
The blue below was still more blue,
The very light itself was lighter.

And each the other's fancy caught
By one instinctive glance directed:
How doubly glows the Poet's thought
In the belov'd one's breast reflected!

IV.

There is a beechen tree,
To whose thick crown a boy I clomb,
And made me there a birdlike home
To sing or ponder free.

There is a jasmine bower,
Whence you did see me trembling tear
One spray to mingle with your hair,
And loved me from that hour.

Nature has odours none
Like these to me: let some of each,
Of jasmine flowers and leaves of beech,
Adorn our house alone.

V.

Where'er about the world we roam,
With heart on heart, and hand in hand,
Each dwelling has the face of home,
Each country is my native land. --

With glad familiar looks I greet
Places and sights unseen before:
And wandering brook, and winding street,
I follow as if passed of yore.

But if some chance or duty calls
Thee from me; then how great the change!
I hardly know my father's halls,
My mother's very smile is strange.

Dead word become the books I read
With most delight while thou art near;
I seem thy present love to need,
My dearest friendships to endear.

VI.

When long upon the scales of fate
The issue of my passion hung,
And on your eyes I laid in wait,
And on your brow, and on your tongue,

High-frowning Nature pleased me most,
Strange pleasure was it to discern
Sharp rocks and mountains peaked with frost,
Through gorges thick with fir and fern.

The flowerless walk, the vapoury shrouds,
Could comfort me; though best of all,
I loved the daughter of the clouds, --
The wild, capricious, waterfall. --

But now that you and I repose
On one affection's certain store,
Serener charms take place of those, --
Plenty and Peace, and little more.

The hill that tends its mother-breast,
To patient flocks and gentle kine, --
The vale that spreads its royal vest
Of golden corn and purple vine;

The streams that bubble out their mirth
In humble nooks, or calmly flow,
The crystal life-blood of our earth,
Are now the dearest sights I know.





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