28.10.2007, 08:29
ON A RUINED HOUSE IN A ROMANTIC COUNTRY.
AND this reft house is that, the which he built,
Lamented Jack ! and here his malt he piled,
Cautious in vain! these rats that squeak so wild,
Squeak not unconscious of their father's guilt.
Did he not see her gleaming through the glade ?
Belike 'twas she, the maiden all forlorn.
What though she milked no cow with crumpled horn,
Yet, aye she haunts the dale where erst she strayed :
And, aye beside her stalks her amorous knight !
Still on his thighs their wonted brogues are worn,
And through those brogues, still tattered and betorn,
His hindward charms gleam an unearthly white.
Ah ! thus through broken clouds at night's high noon
Peeps in fair fragments forth the full-orb'd harvest moon !
AND this reft house is that, the which he built,
Lamented Jack ! and here his malt he piled,
Cautious in vain! these rats that squeak so wild,
Squeak not unconscious of their father's guilt.
Did he not see her gleaming through the glade ?
Belike 'twas she, the maiden all forlorn.
What though she milked no cow with crumpled horn,
Yet, aye she haunts the dale where erst she strayed :
And, aye beside her stalks her amorous knight !
Still on his thighs their wonted brogues are worn,
And through those brogues, still tattered and betorn,
His hindward charms gleam an unearthly white.
Ah ! thus through broken clouds at night's high noon
Peeps in fair fragments forth the full-orb'd harvest moon !