122. Waiting for the Morning
|
{210}
"Quoddam quasi pratum, in quo animæ nihil
patiebantur, sed
manebant, nondum idoneæ Visioni Beatæ" Bedæ
Hist. v. |
THEY are at rest: |
| We may not stir the heaven of their repose |
| With loud-voiced grief, or passionate request, |
|
Or selfish plaint for those |
| Who in the mountain grots of Eden lie, |
| And hear the fourfold river, as it hurries by. |
They hear it sweep |
| In distance down the dark and savage vale; |
| But they at eddying pool or current deep |
|
Shall never more grow pale; |
| They hear, and meekly muse, as fain to know |
How long untired, unspent, that giant stream shall
flow. {211} |
And soothing sounds |
| Blend with the neighbouring waters as they glide; |
| Posted along the haunted garden's bounds |
|
Angelic forms abide, |
| Echoing, as words of watch, o'er lawn and grove, |
| The verses of that hymn which Seraphs chant above. |
Oxford.
1835. |