| |
| THE TANGLING wealth by June amassed | |
| Left rock and ruin vaguely seen; | |
| Thick ivy-cables held them fast, | |
| Light boughs descended, floating green. | |
| |
| Slow turned the stair, a breathless height, | 5 |
| And, far above, it set me free, | |
| When all the golden fan of light | |
| Was closing down into the sea. | |
| |
| A window half-way up the wall | |
| It led to; and so high was that, | 10 |
| The tallest trees were not so tall | |
| That they could reach to where I sat. | |
| |
| Aloft within the mouldered tower, | |
| Dark ivy fringed its round of sky, | |
| Where slowly, in the deepening hour, | 15 |
| The first few stars unveiled on high. | |
| |
| The rustling of the foliage dim, | |
| The murmur of the cool gray tide, | |
| With tears that trembled on the brim, | |
| An echo sad to these I sighed. | 20 |
| |
| O Sea, thy ripple’s mournful tune!— | |
| The cloud along the sunset sleeps; | |
| The phantom of the golden moon | |
| Is kindled in thy quivering deeps, | |
| |
| O, mournfully!—and I to fill, | 25 |
| Fixed in a ruin-window strange, | |
| Some countless period, watching still | |
| A moon, a sea, that never change! | |
| |
| The guided orb is mounting slow; | |
| The duteous wave is ebbing fast; | 30 |
| And now, as from the niche I go, | |
| A shadow joins the shadowy past. | |
| |
| Farewell, dim ruins, tower and life; | |
| Sadly enrich the distant view! | |
| And welcome, scenes of toil and strife; | 35 |
| To-morrow’s sun arises new. | |
| |
