Page:The ascent of man by Blind, Mathilde.djvu/169

 tortuous windings up the steep incline
 * The sombre street toils to the village square,
 * Whose antique walls in stone and moulding bear

Dumb witness to the Moor. Afar off shine, With tier on tier, cutting heaven's blue divine,
 * The snowy Alps ; and lower the hills are fair,
 * With wave-green olives rippling down to where

Gold clusters hang and leaves of sunburnt vine. You may perchance, I never shall forget
 * When, between twofold glory of land and sea,

We leant together o'er the old parapet,
 * And saw the sun go down. For, oh, to me,

The beauty of that beautiful strange place Was its reflection beaming from your face.