THE sun was setting in the summer west With golden glory, 'mid pavilions vast Of purple and gold; scarcely a zephyr breathed; The woods in their umbrageous beauty slept; The river with a soft sound murmured on; Sweetly the wild birds sang; and far away The azure-shouldered mountains, softly lined, Seemed like the boundaries of Paradise. Soft fell the eve: my wanderings led me on To a lone river bank of yellow sand,— The loved haunt of the ousel, whose blithe wing Wanton'd from stone to stone,—and, on a mound Of verdurous turf with wild-flowers diamonded, (Harebell and lychnis, thyme and camomile,) Sprang in the majesty of natural pride An Eglantine—the red rose of the wood— Its cany boughs with threatening prickles arm'd, Rich in its blossoms and sweet-scented leaves. The wild-rose has a nameless spell for me; And never on the road-side do mine eyes Behold it, but at once my thoughts revert To schoolboy days: why so, I scarcely know; Except that once, while wandering with my mates, One gorgeous afternoon, when holiday To Nature lent new charms, a thunder-storm O'ertook us, cloud on cloud—a mass of black, Dashing at once the blue sky from our view, And spreading o'er the dim and dreary hills A lurid mantle. To a leafy screen We fled, of elms; and from the rushing rain And hail found shelter, though at every flash Of the red lightning, brightly heralding The thunder-peal, within each bosom died The young heart, and the day of doom seemed come. At length the rent battalia cleared away— The tempest-cloven clouds; and sudden fell A streak of joyful sunshine. On a bush Of wild-rose fell its beauty. All was dark Around it still, and dismal; but the beam (Like Hope sent down to re-illume Despair) Burned on the bush, displaying every leaf, And bud, and blossom, with such perfect light And exquisite splendour, that since then my heart Hath deemed it Nature's favourite, and mine eyes Fall on it never, but that thought recurs, And memories of the by-past, sad and sweet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LESSER EPISTLES: TO BERNARD LINTOTT by JOHN GAY AN ARCTIC VISION [JUNE 20, 1867] by FRANCIS BRET HARTE FAIRYLAND (1) by EDGAR ALLAN POE COLIN CLOUTS COME HOME AGAIN by EDMUND SPENSER THE PRINCESS: SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON TO A YOUNG FRIEND LEARNING TO PLAY THE FLUTE by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. THE ONE FOUNDATION by EDWARD CARPENTER |