Sonnet Xliii. The Malvern Hills, March 12, 1835. - Poem by Henry Alford
Erewhile I saw ye faintly through far haze,
Spread many miles above the fields of sea;
Now ye rise glorious, and my steps are free
To wander through your valleys' beaten ways,
And climb above, threading the rocky maze;
And trace this stream alive with shifting light,
With whose successive eddies silver--bright
Not without pleasant sound the moonbeam plays.
My dear, dear bride--two days had made thee mine,
Two days of waxing hope and waning fear,
When under the night--planet's lavish shine
We stood in joy, and blessed that rillet clear;
Such joy unwarning comes and quickly parts,
But lives deep--rooted in our ``heart of hearts.''
Comments about Sonnet Xliii. The Malvern Hills, March 12, 1835. by Henry Alford
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You