W. WORDSWORTH.

201.

At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping,

I fly

To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in

thine eye;

And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions

of air

To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to

me there

And tell me our love is remember'd even in the sky!

Then I sing the wild song it once was rapture to hear

When our voices, commingling, breathed like one on

the ear;

And as Echo far off through the vale my sad orison

rolls,

I think, O my love! 'tis thy voice, from the Kingdom

of Souls

Faintly answering still the notes that once were so dear.

The Golden Treasury Of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language · 第 389 / 568 题