Then through the great town’s harsh, heart-wearying roar, Let in thy voice a whisper often come, To chase fatigue and fear: Why faintest thou? I wander’d till I died. Roam on! the light we sought is shining still. Dost thou ask proof? Our Tree yet crowns the hill, Our Scholar travels yet the loved hillside.
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Date: July 8th, 2017 12:16 am (UTC)Let in thy voice a whisper often come,
To chase fatigue and fear:
Why faintest thou? I wander’d till I died.
Roam on! the light we sought is shining still.
Dost thou ask proof? Our Tree yet crowns the hill,
Our Scholar travels yet the loved hillside.
-Thyrsis (1861)