THERE is an air for which I fain would give All that Mozart, Rossini, Weber wrote; An ancient air with sad funcreal note, In which for me do secret raptures live. Each time I hear it, by two hundred years My soul seems to grow younger; 'tis the reign Of Louis the thirteenth:--Outstretched appears A hill, which sunset's golden glories stain. A brick-built mansion next, adorned with stone, Its windows all with ruby colours glowing Amid wide parks, which a broad river own, Washing its feet through grass and flowers flowing. At her high lattice is a lady seen; Fair with black eyes, in garb of long ago, Whom in some prior life it may have been I knew, and even now I seem to know. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TAY BRIDGE DISEASTER by WILLIAM MCGONAGALL ON RECEIVING [THE FIRST] NEWS OF THE WAR by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE WEAVER'S APPRENTICE by AL-RUSAFI EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN BE THOU A BIRD, MY SOUL by A. G. C. |