Love and Vision
My love is more than life to me;
And you look on and wonder
In what can that illusion be
You think I labour under.
Yet you, too, have you never gone,
Some wet and yellow even.
Where russet moors reach on and on
Beneath a windy heaven?
Brown moors, which, at the western edge,
A watery sunset brushes.
With misty rays yon cloudy ledge
Casts down upon the rushes.
You see no more ; but shade your eyes.
Forget the showery weather.
Forget the wet, tempestuous skies
And look upon the heather.
O fairyland, fairyland!
It sparkles, lives, and dances,
By every gust swayed down and fanned.
And every rain-drop glances.
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