Late, from this western shore, that morning chased The deep and ancient night, that threw its shroud O'er the green land of groves, the beautiful waste, Nurse of full streams, and lifter-up of proud Sky-mingling mountains that o'erlook the cloud. [Page 9] Erewhile, where yon gay spires their brightness rear, Trees waved, and the brown hunter's shouts were loud Amid the forest; and the bounding deer Fled at the glancing plume, and the gaunt wolf yelled near | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN WILL LOVE COME? by PAKENHAM THOMAS BEATTY CHRISTMAS, 1917 by BRENT DOW ALLINSON IN AN OLD CEMETERY by LILLAH A. ASHLEY RIDDLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD S. JAMES BP. OF JERUSALEM by JOSEPH BEAUMONT NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 7 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |