When first I stepped within your book-ranged halls’
Methought it was a vast enchanted land,
For here I see, built up on every hand,
Books, manuscripts, and pictures on the walls,
And each my gaze with beckoning finger calls’
Bidding me on their bright-bound regions stand.
Then leave, if so, I will, the glistening sand’
Of their strange shores, and haste, for twilight falls,
To journey over moonlight mount and stream.
To pass o’er shadowy vales across clear hills’
Where fancy lingers longingly to dream,
Roaming through sloping glades of sinuous rills”
Where, twixt the slender trees, strange faces gleam’
And distant laughter all the woodland fills’
(R S Ward)
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Based on Topics: Nature Poems, Dreams Poems, Books Poems, Haste PoemsBased on Keywords: manuscripts, longingly