dots-menu
×

Home  »  The Book of Sorrow  »  George Darley (1795–1846)

Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916.

On the Death of a Recluse

George Darley (1795–1846)

’MID roaring brooks and dark moss-vales,

Where speechless Thought abides,

Still her sweet spirit dwells,

That knew no world besides.

Her form the woodland still retains—

Wound but a creeping flower,

Her very life-blood stains

Thee, in a falling shower.

Touch but the stream, drink but the air,

Her cheek, her breath is known—

Ravish that red rose there,

And she is all thy own.