Page:Felicia Hemans in The Winter's Wreath 1830.pdf/11

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Do mighty mountains old Thy loveliness enfold? Or deserts guard thee with their burning gloom? As the dread flaming brand That hung o'er Eden's land, Shut up the pathway to that world of bloom?

Or art thou some lone isle, Girt ever by the smile Of waves, wherein Heaven's azure slumbering lies? Oh! send by breeze or bird, A sign, a leaf, a word, A guiding flower-breath from thine own pure skies!

Yes! mournfully profound, Within my soul, a sound Speaks, like a shell's low murmur for the sea; Whispering, thou radiant clime! That but o'er Death and Time, The Exile-Spirit can be borne to thee!