ON MOUNT ROYAL.
I.They sat in the woods together,On the mountain’s tranquil height,And spoke of the Autumn weather,Of the purplish-golden lightThat played on the distant river,And robed the mountains afarIn a robe more rich than everWas worn by Caliph or Czar.II.The wine of the beauty around themThey drank till the sun hung low,Till the scene like a spell had bound them;For the forest was all aglowWith the countless tints that followSpent Summer’s retiring tread,When freely on height and hollowAll beautiful colours are shed.III.All hues that the rainbow showeth,All opulent dyes that flushThe western sky when goethThe Lord of Day, and the blushOf river and lake and oceanBetrays that his last caressTheir life-blood keeps in motionTill he cometh again to bless.IV.No valley of famed CashmereSuch exquisite tints puts onAs the woods that crown the year,When hot-footed Summer is goneWhen every tree is a flower,Gigantic, superbly aflameWith ruby and scarlet,—a dowerOf beauty no tongue can name.V.They sat and communed together;She spoke of this dream of life,And quietly questioned whether’Tis worth all the sorrow and strifeThat burden the hearts of many,That tangle the steps of all;For truly there is not anyWho ’scapeth the serpent’s thrall.VI.He said: “Such a thought but troublesThe good that in life we find,Distorts fair truth, and doublesThe anguish that clouds the mind.Surely, this cirque of beauty,And that blue heaven above,Make love of life a duty,And life a thing to love.”VII.She said: “The winter cometh;These splendors will cease to be,Like the joy in the heart that hummethAn hour for you and me,Then suddenly sinks to ashes,So perish all beautiful things;So love for an instant flashes,Then folds his languid wings.”VIII.“Ah! now I suspect you dissemble,”He presently made reply;“You need not fear or tremble,For surely you and IHave faith in love’s enduranceAnd know that beauty abidesFor souls that in blest assuranceDiscern where it haply hides.”IX.In silent and solemn abstractionShe gazed on the pictured trees,Through which a pale reflectionOf light and a friendly breezeShimmered and sighed so kindly,—She dreamily said: “MaybeToo coldly, perchance too blindly,I’ve judged of this world—and thee!”X.A tear in her bright eye glistened,The soft breeze wafted her hairAdrift on his face, when she listenedAs if to a voice in the air;But neither by word nor tokenBehooves it the world to knowHow the chain of her doubt was broken,Whilst the sun in the West hung low.XI.The low wind hastened to utterA message of joyful sound;Like flakes of fire a-flutterSome red leaves fell to the ground;A chorus of bells in the cityRose mournfully mellow and clear,Like voices of infinite pityFor lives that were saddened and sere.XII.They rose and descended the mountain,So happy and hallowed in thought,Charmed nature to them was a fountainOf tender emotion that wroughtA longing for nobler endeavourTo make life to others a boonAs peaceful and blessed foreverAs their dream of that afternoon.
I.They sat in the woods together,On the mountain’s tranquil height,And spoke of the Autumn weather,Of the purplish-golden lightThat played on the distant river,And robed the mountains afarIn a robe more rich than everWas worn by Caliph or Czar.II.The wine of the beauty around themThey drank till the sun hung low,Till the scene like a spell had bound them;For the forest was all aglowWith the countless tints that followSpent Summer’s retiring tread,When freely on height and hollowAll beautiful colours are shed.III.All hues that the rainbow showeth,All opulent dyes that flushThe western sky when goethThe Lord of Day, and the blushOf river and lake and oceanBetrays that his last caressTheir life-blood keeps in motionTill he cometh again to bless.IV.No valley of famed CashmereSuch exquisite tints puts onAs the woods that crown the year,When hot-footed Summer is goneWhen every tree is a flower,Gigantic, superbly aflameWith ruby and scarlet,—a dowerOf beauty no tongue can name.V.They sat and communed together;She spoke of this dream of life,And quietly questioned whether’Tis worth all the sorrow and strifeThat burden the hearts of many,That tangle the steps of all;For truly there is not anyWho ’scapeth the serpent’s thrall.VI.He said: “Such a thought but troublesThe good that in life we find,Distorts fair truth, and doublesThe anguish that clouds the mind.Surely, this cirque of beauty,And that blue heaven above,Make love of life a duty,And life a thing to love.”VII.She said: “The winter cometh;These splendors will cease to be,Like the joy in the heart that hummethAn hour for you and me,Then suddenly sinks to ashes,So perish all beautiful things;So love for an instant flashes,Then folds his languid wings.”VIII.“Ah! now I suspect you dissemble,”He presently made reply;“You need not fear or tremble,For surely you and IHave faith in love’s enduranceAnd know that beauty abidesFor souls that in blest assuranceDiscern where it haply hides.”IX.In silent and solemn abstractionShe gazed on the pictured trees,Through which a pale reflectionOf light and a friendly breezeShimmered and sighed so kindly,—She dreamily said: “MaybeToo coldly, perchance too blindly,I’ve judged of this world—and thee!”X.A tear in her bright eye glistened,The soft breeze wafted her hairAdrift on his face, when she listenedAs if to a voice in the air;But neither by word nor tokenBehooves it the world to knowHow the chain of her doubt was broken,Whilst the sun in the West hung low.XI.The low wind hastened to utterA message of joyful sound;Like flakes of fire a-flutterSome red leaves fell to the ground;A chorus of bells in the cityRose mournfully mellow and clear,Like voices of infinite pityFor lives that were saddened and sere.XII.They rose and descended the mountain,So happy and hallowed in thought,Charmed nature to them was a fountainOf tender emotion that wroughtA longing for nobler endeavourTo make life to others a boonAs peaceful and blessed foreverAs their dream of that afternoon.
I.They sat in the woods together,On the mountain’s tranquil height,And spoke of the Autumn weather,Of the purplish-golden lightThat played on the distant river,And robed the mountains afarIn a robe more rich than everWas worn by Caliph or Czar.
II.The wine of the beauty around themThey drank till the sun hung low,Till the scene like a spell had bound them;For the forest was all aglowWith the countless tints that followSpent Summer’s retiring tread,When freely on height and hollowAll beautiful colours are shed.
III.All hues that the rainbow showeth,All opulent dyes that flushThe western sky when goethThe Lord of Day, and the blushOf river and lake and oceanBetrays that his last caressTheir life-blood keeps in motionTill he cometh again to bless.
IV.No valley of famed CashmereSuch exquisite tints puts onAs the woods that crown the year,When hot-footed Summer is goneWhen every tree is a flower,Gigantic, superbly aflameWith ruby and scarlet,—a dowerOf beauty no tongue can name.
V.They sat and communed together;She spoke of this dream of life,And quietly questioned whether’Tis worth all the sorrow and strifeThat burden the hearts of many,That tangle the steps of all;For truly there is not anyWho ’scapeth the serpent’s thrall.
VI.He said: “Such a thought but troublesThe good that in life we find,Distorts fair truth, and doublesThe anguish that clouds the mind.Surely, this cirque of beauty,And that blue heaven above,Make love of life a duty,And life a thing to love.”
VII.She said: “The winter cometh;These splendors will cease to be,Like the joy in the heart that hummethAn hour for you and me,Then suddenly sinks to ashes,So perish all beautiful things;So love for an instant flashes,Then folds his languid wings.”
VIII.“Ah! now I suspect you dissemble,”He presently made reply;“You need not fear or tremble,For surely you and IHave faith in love’s enduranceAnd know that beauty abidesFor souls that in blest assuranceDiscern where it haply hides.”
IX.In silent and solemn abstractionShe gazed on the pictured trees,Through which a pale reflectionOf light and a friendly breezeShimmered and sighed so kindly,—She dreamily said: “MaybeToo coldly, perchance too blindly,I’ve judged of this world—and thee!”
X.A tear in her bright eye glistened,The soft breeze wafted her hairAdrift on his face, when she listenedAs if to a voice in the air;But neither by word nor tokenBehooves it the world to knowHow the chain of her doubt was broken,Whilst the sun in the West hung low.
XI.The low wind hastened to utterA message of joyful sound;Like flakes of fire a-flutterSome red leaves fell to the ground;A chorus of bells in the cityRose mournfully mellow and clear,Like voices of infinite pityFor lives that were saddened and sere.
XII.They rose and descended the mountain,So happy and hallowed in thought,Charmed nature to them was a fountainOf tender emotion that wroughtA longing for nobler endeavourTo make life to others a boonAs peaceful and blessed foreverAs their dream of that afternoon.