A SONG OF MEMORY.
87
Where she stood, in life and bloom,
With the summer sunshine kind
Streaming round her, in the gloom
Of the massive arch enshrined;
To her feet the shadows crept
From the grey and ruined stone,
And her form from out them swept
Like an Apparition thrown
On the sunny air—the light
Smote her forehead—even now
Bides that vision in my sight
With the halo on its brow!
Even so, within my heart
Ever young and fond and fair
Stands she in her shrine, apart
From the ruins round her there;
Glides her image through its gloom
In a quiet track of light,
As within a darkened room
Soft a straggling sunbeam falls
On the ceiling, on the walls,
Finding nothing else so bright!
With the summer sunshine kind
Streaming round her, in the gloom
Of the massive arch enshrined;
To her feet the shadows crept
From the grey and ruined stone,
And her form from out them swept
Like an Apparition thrown
On the sunny air—the light
Smote her forehead—even now
Bides that vision in my sight
With the halo on its brow!
Even so, within my heart
Ever young and fond and fair
Stands she in her shrine, apart
From the ruins round her there;
Glides her image through its gloom
In a quiet track of light,
As within a darkened room
Soft a straggling sunbeam falls
On the ceiling, on the walls,
Finding nothing else so bright!
Dark the castle stands above,
Dark the river onward floweth,
Murmuring as one that knoweth
Somewhat of my grief and love.
Nay! the river nothing knoweth,
Ever floweth, ever speedeth,
Dark the river onward floweth,
Murmuring as one that knoweth
Somewhat of my grief and love.
Nay! the river nothing knoweth,
Ever floweth, ever speedeth,
