Poem by Noel Thomas Carrington

Dartmoor

                IN sunlight and in shade,
Repose and storm, wide waste! I since have trod
Thy hill and dale magnificent. Again
I seek thy solitudes profound, in this
Thy hour of deep tranquillity, when rests
The sunbeam on thee, and thy desert seems
To sleep in the unwonted brightness, calm,
But stern; for, though the spirit of the Spring
Breathes on thee, to the charmer’s whisper kind
Thou listenest not, nor ever puttest on	
A robe of beauty, as the fields that bud
And blossom near thee. Yet I love to tread
Thy central wastes, where not a sound intrudes
Upon the ear but rush of wing or leap
Of the hoarse waterfall. And O, ’t is sweet
To list the music of thy torrent streams;
For thou too hast thy minstrelsies for him
Who from their liberal mountain-urn delights
To trace thy waters, as from source to sea
They rush tumultuous.

Felicia Hemans Dartmoor ("WILD Dartmoor! thou that midst thy mountains rude")

Print

1167 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version