Page:Ambarvalia - Clough (1849).djvu/120

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110

Conceived and let as willingly escape,
Since I stood last beside thee, feeding thus
Calm verse from a calm heart. Delicious nest
Of shadow, with sweet inlet for the sun
Through loopholes of the orange or the vine
Have I enjoyed, while veins of crystal water
Broke at my side from mountains lost in air;
Sweet chapels of the pinewoods, odorous
With natural incense, where a million stems
On every side with all their lights and shades
Made glimmering walls, that, serving to confine
The worshipping fancy, sank before the eye
Each in an endless distance, an abyss
Of columns, exquisitely soaring up
From mossy floors, smooth as a tranquil lake,
Into the figured darkness overhead;
Nor (nearer thine own kind, sweet native cell!)
Among soft hills by rivers broad and soft,
Have nooks and quiet foldings of the banks
Green as thyself, been wanting, where to sit
Watching an evening sun, or leisurely
Tracking the leisure of the noonday clouds.

O little native cell, clear is thy spring
And green thy Birch-tree with its myriad threads
One image seen, for ever soaring up,