SKERRYVORE OR love of lovely words, and for the sake FOR Of those, my kinsmen and my countrymen, I, on the lintel of this cot, inscribe H XXXV SKERRYVORE: THE PARALLEL ERE all is sunny, and when the truant gull Skims the green level of the lawn, his wing Dispetals roses; here the house is framed But there Of kneaded brick and the plumed mountain pine, Of glittering glass, stands, in the sweep of winds, M Y house, I say. But hark to the sunny doves That make my roof the arena of their loves, That gyre about the gable all day long And fill the chimneys with their murmurous song: So, too, the buck that trimmed my terraces, Y XXXVII My body which my dungeon is, And yet my parks and palaces:- When evening takes her on her way, Which is so broad and high that there, As in the topless fields of air, My fancy soars like to a kite And faints in the blue infinite: Which is so strong, my strongest throes As the green sea in fishers' nets, Can wield its whole artillery, If this born body of my bones |