Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE RING-DOVE, by CHARLES WHITWORTH WYNNE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE RING-DOVE, by                    
First Line: Mid beechy umbrage, bosky dell
Last Line: Brief solace for my wounded mind.
Alternate Author Name(s): Cayzer, Charles
Subject(s): Dreams; Hearts; Love; Memory; Shadows; Nightmares


'MID beechy umbrage, bosky dell,
'Tis there the Ring-dove loves to dwell,
And thro' the still, deep hush of noon
His plaintive melodies to croon.

Like moonbeams on a silent pool,
His liquid notes flow soft and cool;
Like plashing waters heard at even,
So falls his voice on hearts bereaven.

Not here the upward-soaring lark
With quivering throat can pierce the dark;
The Nightingale might sing in vain
Within the Ring-dove's hush'd domain.

Sweet Bird! thy mate along the bough
Listens to thy so ardent vow:
She will console that woe of thine,
But, ah, my mistress heeds not mine!

Thy song is like a summer dream
Beside some gently-rilling stream—
A vale where fever'd hearts may rest
In sanctuaried oblivion blest.

Amid the lush and waving grass
I watch the shadows as they pass,
And in thy leafy covert find
Brief solace for my wounded mind.





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