No mortal comes to visit me to-day, <br /> <br />Only the gay and early-rising Sun <br />Who strolled in nonchalantly, just to say, <br /> <br />' Good morrow, and despair not, foolish one ! ' <br />But like the tune which comforted King Saul <br />Sounds in my brain that sunny madrigal. <br /> <br />Anon the playful Wind arises, swells <br />Into vague music, and departing, leaves <br /> <br />A sense of blue bare heights and tinkling bells, <br />Audible silences which sound achieves <br /> <br />Through music, mountain streams, and hinted <br />heather, <br /> <br />And drowsy flocks drifting in golden weather. <br /> <br />Lastly, as to my bed I turn for rest, <br />Comes Lady Moon herself on silver feet <br /> <br />To sit with one white arm across my breast, <br />Talking of elves and haunts where they do <br />meet. <br /> <br />No mortal comes to see me, yet I say <br /> <br />' Oh, I have had fine visitors to-day ! '<br /><br />Frederick William (FW) Harvey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/solitary-confinement-11/
