Were not the crocuses that grew
Under that ilex-tree
As beautiful in scent and hue
As ever fed the bee? _80
We stood beneath the pools that lie
Under the forest bough,
And each seemed like a sky
Gulfed in a world below;
A purple firmament of light _85
Which in the dark earth lay,
More boundless than the depth of night,
And clearer than the day—
In which the massy forests grew
As in the upper air, _90
More perfect both in shape and hue
Than any waving there.
Like one beloved the scene had lent
To the dark water’s breast
Its every leaf and lineament _95
With that clear truth expressed;
There lay far glades and neighbouring lawn,
And through the dark green crowd
The white sun twinkling like the dawn
Under a speckled cloud. _100
Sweet views, which in our world above
Can never well be seen,
Were imaged by the water’s love
Of that fair forest green.
And all was interfused beneath _105
With an Elysian air,
An atmosphere without a breath,
A silence sleeping there.
Until a wandering wind crept by,
Like an unwelcome thought, _110
Which from my mind’s too faithful eye
Blots thy bright image out.
For thou art good and dear and kind,
The forest ever green,
But less of peace in S—‘s mind,
Than calm in waters, seen. _116.