Читать книгу Poems - William Anderson - Страница 17

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Light on the landscape shines

Awhile, ere vanishing, as loth to leave;—

Upon the mead, the wearied ox at eve

Familiarly reclines.

The plough is left a-field,

And the rude labourer, from his toil set free,

Leads his tired steads forth o'er the upturned lea,

Refreshing drink to yield.

The hills with light are dyed;

And pointing spires peer o'er the distant trees,

As one tall vessels in the horizon sees,

Careering in their pride!

Each meek flower, white and red,

That tufts the meadow, in fresh odour sleeps,

Ere the departing Day from off the steeps

Lifts his resplendent head.

The golden-tissued clouds,

Amid which now the Sun, world-worshipped, sinks,

Retain his glory still upon their brinks,

As gloom the earth enshrouds!

Slowly the darkness creeps

Up the lone hill-sides, shadow-like, by sighs

Of ev'ning lullabyed, as on man's eyes

Steals slumber ere he sleeps!

Thus on the mountain-oak,

And on the hoary castle's ruined walls,

The rotting ivy, clinging as it falls,

Seems their past strength to mock.

Exalted are the thoughts

That rise within our souls at such a time;

The vast, the wild, the awful, the sublime,

Embodied, round us floats!

And the hushed spirit seems

To listen to the tones from giants flung;

Echoes of war-songs, that of old were sung,

Now rush like mountain streams:

And what come on the sight

Are not the puny visions of the day;

The near and the familiar pass away,

With the departing light:

Each mountain range that towers

In desert grandeur o'er the darkening scene,

Looks like a spirit standing now between

Another world and ours!

Oh! ye time-honoured hills,

The Ancient, the Immortal—is it not

A high-born privilege ne'er to be forgot,

To feel none of earth's ills?

Sublime ye are as Heaven!

Though bleak not barren, silent yet not dumb,

From out your shadows health and music come,

And thronging thoughts are given!

Not worthless is your aim,

To stand from age to age, from hour to hour,

The Almighty's temple, token of his power,

And record of his name!