ANOTHER day -- another day, And yet he comes not nigh; I look amid the dim blue hills, Yet nothing meets mine eye. I hear the rush of mountain-streams Upon the echoes borne; I hear the singing of the birds, -- But not my hunter's horn. The eagle sails in darkness past, The watchful chamois bounds; But what I look for comes not near, -- My ULRIC'S hawk and hounds. Three times I thus have watch'd the snow Grow crimson with the stain The setting sun threw o'er the rock, And I have watch'd in vain. I love to see the graceful bow Across his shoulder slung, -- I love to see the golden horn Beside his baldric hung. I love his dark hounds, and I love His falcon's sweeping flight; I love to see his manly cheek With mountain-colours bright. I've waited patiently, but now Would that the chase were o'er: Well may he love the hunter's toil, But he should love me more. Why stays he thus? -- he would be here If his love equall'd mine; -- Methinks had I one fond caged dove, I would not let it pine. But, hark! what are those ringing steps That up the valley come? I see his hounds, -- I see himself, -- My ULRIC, welcome home! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE JEW TO JESUS by FLORENCE KIPER FRANK THE GILLYFLOWER OF GOLD by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) CITY ROOFS by CHARLES HANSON TOWNE THE IDLERS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN AN OFFERING by ANNE MILLAY BREMER MY KATE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING A SCENE ON THE BANKS OF THE HUDSON by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT EPIGRAM ON ELPHINSTONE'S TRANSLATION OF MARTIAL'S EPIGRAMS by ROBERT BURNS |