[Editor: This poem by William Blocksidge (also known as William Baylebridge) was published in Songs o’ the South (1908).]
From St. Killian’s Hill
How sweet this air! How calm this gentle night!
It seemeth as a chaste, a holy bride,
Veiled in soft silvern beams, that from the side
Of that fair moon were spilt for earth’s delight.
The fleecy clouds now fill heav’n’s middle height;
And in their bosom oft the moon doth hide.
But, breaking thence, again her silvern tide
With magic paints the vale below my sight.
A lazy river there doth wind along;
And thence a thousand eyes are turned to me.
Hark! from below there comes a plaintive song —
And tears are mingled with its melody.
Ah! stream, and gentle vale, and mountain strong —
Could there be more in ev’n Eternity?
Source:
William Blocksidge, Songs o’ the South, London: Watts, 1908, p. 42
Editor’s notes:
doth = (archaic) does
ev’n = (vernacular) even
heav’n = (vernacular) heaven
oft = (archaic) often
seemeth = (archaic) seems
silvern = something made from silver; something which is coloured like silver; something which looks like silver or has the characteristics of silver; something made so as to resemble silver, or to have the characteristics of silver
vale = valley
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