Sagas of Vaster Britain: Poems of the Race, the Empire and the Divinity of Man

by William Wilfred Campbell




OVER the querulous age of the grey old year
    Heaven its mantle of white sends softly down;
And far over mountain and fell and woodland sere
    Its folds are thrown.

Hushed are the clamours of autumn; old ocean’s moan

    Less loud in his desolate caverns ; the lonely hills
Are capped with its silence ; and all earth’s ruin o’erthrown
    Its great dream fills.

Under the high-arched aisles of the ancient woods,
    In those corridors solemn and dim where the sky-patches peer,

A mystical spirit of joy and solitude broods
    O’er the tomb of the year.

And here I have loved, in those hours of the heart’s high dream,
    To walk with the silence, and hark to that spirit aglow
Of the trance of forest and sky and mountain and stream,

     In the pause of the snow.