Page:Poems Kemble.djvu/120

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
116
an apology.
Or round the rocks, with nearer reach,
Throws up a cloud of silvery spray?
Or to the firry woods, that shed
Their spicy odours to the sun,
Goest thou with meditative tread,
Thinking of all things that are done
Beneath the sky?—a great, big thought,
Of which I know you're very fond.
For me, my mind is solely wrought
To this one wish: O! in a pond
Would I were over head and ears!
(Of a cold ducking I've no fears)
Or any where, where I am not;
For, bless the heat! it is too hot!



AN APOLOGY.
Blame not my tears, love: to you has been given
The brightest, best gift, God to mortals allows;
The sunlight of hope on your heart shines from Heaven,
And shines from your heart, on this life and its woes.