Henry Timrod (Генри Тимрод)

Sonnets. 8. At Last, Beloved Nature! I Have Met

At last, beloved Nature! I have met
Thee face to face upon thy breezy hills,
And boldly, where thy inmost bowers are set,
Gazed on thee naked in thy mountain rills.
When first I felt thy breath upon my brow,
Tears of strange ecstasy gushed out like rain,
And with a longing, passionate as vain,
I strove to clasp thee.  But, I know not how,
Always before me didst thou seem to glide;
And often from one sunny mountain-side,
Upon the next bright peak I saw thee kneel,
And heard thy voice upon the billowy blast;
But, climbing, only reached that shrine to feel
The shadow of a Presence which had passed.

1. On Pressing Some Flowers
2. Sonnets. 14. Are These Wild Thoughts, Thus Fettered in My Rhymes
3. The Rosebuds
4. Hymn Sung at the Consecration of Magnolia Cemetery, Charleston, S.C.
5. A Common Thought

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