Robert Bloomfield (Роберт Блумфилд)
Mary’s Evening Sigh
How bright with pearl the western sky! How glorious far and wide, Yon lines of golden clouds that lie So peaceful side by side! Their deep'ning tints, the arch of light, All eyes with rapture see; E'en while I sigh I bless the sight That lures my love from me. Green hill, that shad'st the valley here, Thou bear'st upon thy brow The only wealth to Mary dear, And all she'll ever know. There, in the crimson light I see, Above thy summit rise, My Edward's form, he looks to me A statue in the skies. Descend my love, the hour is come, Why linger on the hill? The sun hath left my quiet home, But thou canst see him still; Yet why a lonely wanderer stray, Alone the joy pursue? The glories of the closing day Can charm thy Mary too. Dear Edward, when we stroll'd along Beneath the waving corn, And both confess'd the power of song, And bless'd the dewy morn; Your eye o'erflow'd, "How sweet," you cried. (My presence then could move) "How sweet, with Mary by my side, "To gaze and talk of love" Thou art not false! that cannot be; Yet I my rivals deem Each woodland charm, the moss, the tree, The silence, and the stream; Whate'er my love, detains thee now, I'll yet forgive thy stay; But with to-morrow's dawn come thou, We'll brush the dews away.
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