The sun that hurt his lovers from on high
Is fallen; she more merciful is nigh,
The blessèd one whose beauty's even glow
Gave never wound to any shepherd's eye.
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Superb Poem...
O sing! the water-golds are deepening now,
A hush is come upon the beechen bough;
She shines the while on thee, as saint to saint
Sweet interchanged adorings may allow:
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Superb Poem... O sing! the water-golds are deepening now, A hush is come upon the beechen bough; She shines the while on thee, as saint to saint Sweet interchanged adorings may allow: