Page:Ambarvalia - Clough (1849).djvu/119



once again, thou little silent Spring, Which, welling from beneath the green hillside, Makest one dimple on the placid face Of contemplative Avon, one alone For ever floating off, ever caught back, Or, as it dies, reborn,—yet once again I stand beside thee with a heart at home, And can behold thee with the quiet love We give to things domestic, which we see At morn with tranquil pleasure, and at night Can close our eyes on calmly, doubting not To see the same again with morn renewed. Yet once again beside thee, little Spring, The murmuring Muse draws near, and with a voice That might, here heard among these shady trees, Be taken for thy voice, silent Spring, Bids me rejoice aloud! More foreign lands, quiet Spring, than in a summer's length Thou bringest bubbles from thy secret cell To disappear in daylight, have my eyes