Classic Poem

I.

Escaped the noise and whirl of town,
The feverish toil, the narrow aim
Of those who struggle for the crown
Of fortune or of fleeting fame,
A wearied mind, a heart bereft
Of trust and love, I with me bore,
Nor sigh'd to quit the land I left,
Nor smiled to reach the further shore.

II.

And yet that new-found coast was fair —
A bay where arching aisles of rock
On each hand lift their spires in air,
And foremost meet the billows' shock.
Behind them winding cliffs expand,
Bright to the brink with waving grain;
And all the riches of the land
Salute the splendour of the main.

III.

From thence I gazed on folded hills,
On wooded vales or orchards meek;
Beside their bounds the tinkling rills
Reflect the apple's crimson cheek.
Ah me, how once, in scenes like these,
My heart to Nature's voice had thrill'd,
While by her beauty and her peace
Each meaner thought was hush'd and still'd!

IV.

'Twas something to lament the past,
To feel a yearning faint and low
For the sweet glamour fancy cast
Upon the days of long ago,
As — scanning life's horizon line —
One mourns a love too early set,
And knows his sorrow more divine
Than any joy that lingers yet.

V.

Then, 'neath regret for what had flown,
There stirr'd a tremulous desire —
Like the first gleam of embers blown
Into a fitful, transient fire —
A faltering hope that from its death,
Or seeming death, my soul might rise,
Quick with the life of love and faith —
The life of human sympathies.