  Ye whom bonds of the city chain, Yet whose heart must with Nature's be; Ye who, bound to a bed of pain, Dream there of torrent and tower and tree, Here behold them—the magic key, Turned by a thought in yon gates of blue, Even now has revealed to me Alps and Mediterranean too. Why of the bondage of earth complain? Wide as heaven is our liberty! Where are the streets and their smoke and stain When to the land of the lark we flee? Where is the sight that we may not see, Cloudland's citadel passing through? Switzerland beckons with Sicily, Alps and Mediterranean too. Here, 'twixt walls with the marble's vein, Oared on a river of gold are we; There we watch, on a sapphire main, White fleets voyage to victory. Day unto day flashes grief or glee; Night to night utters speech anew, Figuring forest and lane and lea— Alps and Mediterranean too. envoyPrince whose course through the world is free,Fare you better than dreamers do? Here are the mountains and here the sea— Alps and Mediterranean too. S. Gertrude Ford. From Lyric Leaves, by S. Gertrude Ford. Cloth, 2s. 6d. net; 2s. 8d. post free from The Healthy Life, 3 Amen Corner, E.C. This charmingly bound book makes an excellent holiday companion, for it contains many beautiful lyrics, all characterised by serious thought, generous human sympathies and a delicate imaginative quality. |
|
