I.—OUR BOND.
I know not why with yon far, sombre height
I hold so subtle friendship, why my heart
Keeps it in one dear corner set apart;
No rarer glory clothes it day and night
Than find I otherwhere, yet, whensoe’er
Amid all wanderings wide by road or crest
Mine eyes upon those simple outlines rest,
My heart cries out as unto true friend near.
Nor holds that half-forbidding strength of form
Memories more dear than give so deep a grace
To other heights, yet e’er on yon dark face,
Sun-lighted be it, or half-veiled in storm,
I longing gaze with thoughts no words define,
And feel the dumb rock-heart low-answering mine.