Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/99

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been validated.
F. C. SLATER.
73

Faded that mountain steep, that ocean bright!
And ev'n as one bow'd down with nameless woes
I sighed and wept in sorrow infinite.


And as I wept swift changed was the scene,—
And far away amidst the ancient hills,
Begirt with shadowy forests dark and green,


I sat and listened to the tinkling rills
Which rippled softly thro' the gloom and sheen
Of the still woods—a sound that ever fills


The mind with peaceful thought—and lo! I heard
A voice serenely sweet, that bathed with light
Of hope renewed my languid life, and stirr'd


My inmost soul to visions pure and bright,—
A voice divine,—sweeter than song of bird,
Sweeter than the ringing of the foam-bell white


Upon the list'ning shore, or lone wind's sigh
Thro' echoing forests,—thus it spake to me:
"Fear not, O dreamer! not o'er mountains high


"Of thought sublime, nor yet thro' the deep sea
Of knowledge doth Poesy's Palace lie;
But in the plains of Life, where live and die


"Mankind, in joy and sorrow, smiles and tears,
In aspirations great, in longings vain,
In strife and sin, in gloomy doubts and fears;