Now o'er the landscape crowd the deepening shades, <br />And the shut lily cradles not the bee; <br />The red deer couches in the forest glades, <br />And faint the echoes of the slumberous sea: <br />And ere I rest, one prayer I'll breathe for thee, <br />The sweet Egeria of my lonely dreams: <br />Lady, forgive, that ever upon me <br />Thoughts of thee linger, as the soft starbeams <br />Linger on Merlin's rock, or dark Sabrina's streams. <br /> <br />On gray Pilatus once we loved to stray, <br />And watch far off the glimmering roselight break <br />O'er the dim mountain-peaks, ere yet one ray <br />Pierced the deep bosom of the mist-clad lake. <br />Oh! who felt not new life within him wake, <br />And his pulse quicken, and his spirit burn - <br />(Save one we wot of, whom the cold DID make <br />Feel 'shooting pains in every joint in turn,') <br />When first he saw the sun gild thy green shores, Lucerne? <br /> <br />And years have past, and I have gazed once more <br />On blue lakes glistening beneath mountains blue; <br />And all seemed sadder, lovelier than before - <br />For all awakened memories of you. <br />Oh! had I had you by my side, in lieu <br />Of that red matron, whom the flies would worry, <br />(Flies in those parts unfortunately do,) <br />Who walked so slowly, talked in such a hurry, <br />And with such wild contempt for stops and Lindley Murray! <br /> <br />O Isabel, the brightest, heavenliest theme <br />That ere drew dreamer on to poesy, <br />Since 'Peggy's locks' made Burns neglect his team, <br />And Stella's smile lured Johnson from his tea - <br />I may not tell thee what thou art to me! <br />But ever dwells the soft voice in my ear, <br />Whispering of what Time is, what Man might be, <br />Would he but 'do the duty that lies near,' <br />And cut clubs, cards, champagne, balls, billiard-rooms, and beer.<br /><br />Charles Stuart Calverley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/isabel-8/
