Sacred to the Memory of E. S. Written at Worthy Farm, near Porlock, Somerset THIS side the brow of yon sea-bounding hill There is an alley overarched with green, Where thick-grown briers entwine themselves at will; There, twinkling through the under-flowers, is seen The ever-shaking ocean far below; And on the upper side, a rocky wall Where deepest mosses and lithe ivies grow, And honeysuckle-blooms in clusters fall. There walked I when I last remembered thee; And all too joyfully came o’er my mind Moments of pleasure by the southern sea, By our young lives two summers left behind; Ah, sad-sweet memory,—for that very day The gloom came on which may not pass away. |
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