Long since, I lived beneath vast porticoes,
By many ocean-sunsets tinged and fired,
Where mighty pillars, in majestic rows,
Seemed like basaltic caves when day expired.
...
|
|
Where'er he be, on water or land, |
When the low heavy sky weighs like a lid |
In those old times wherein Theology |
|
To pay his ransom man must toil |
So proud your port, your arm so powerful. |
Then I will dream of blue horizons deep; |
I know your heart, which overflows |
|
Here is a woman, richly clad and fair, |
I am as lovely as a dream in stone, |