Page:Roden Noel - A Little Child's Monument - 1881.pdf/138



cloud may sail there, Day flow and fail there, And the eagle fly, Haze overshadow A smooth snow meadow, And gleams of silver Fleeting fly From yon cloud-delver Of gleaming eye! The moon may tarry with Her pale bow, And moonrise marry with Virgin snow, Blue heavens abide, Or solemn-eyed Stars by night, who gaze and go: Ah! ne'er pollute With a mortal foot Yon realms of spirits aerial; All but the lute