Leaves of Autumn from the Vale of the Ems [Poem]

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: CORALLINE. Young Coralline was a maiden rare, But lowly was her lot; She was a peasant's pride and care, And cheered a peasant's cot. Beneath the forest bough she played, When the summer sun on high Above the verdant upland glade Kindled the azure sky. And when the eve, on the western hills, Hung on the...
More Description

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: CORALLINE. Young Coralline was a maiden rare, But lowly was her lot; She was a peasant's pride and care, And cheered a peasant's cot. Beneath the forest bough she played, When the summer sun on high Above the verdant upland glade Kindled the azure sky. And when the eve, on the western hills, Hung on the skirts of day, And the sunlight glanced on flashing rills, Or melted in gold away; Or when the night came softly down, And clad those hills of blue, Young Coralline, with flowery crown, Swept over the glistening dew. Amid the fields, and woods, and flowers, Was spent her guileless youth; Like winged fairies sped her hours Of happiness and truth: And joy came tripping at her heels, And mirth was in her eye; Of innocence she kept the seals, And kept them faithfully. And when the sun across her brow Slanted his richest beams, That brow like ivory shone, I trow, ? Fair as a poet's dreams. Her hair, like threads of virgin gold, Flung loose upon the wind, In clustering curls did well enfold Her snowy neck behind. She seemed some fairy strayed to earth, As may-be fairies do? Seemed gifted by some nobler birth, And yet a mortal too. Ah there was laughter in her eye; Joy silvered sweet her voice; And every sound she threw on high Bade all around rejoice. There are some beings born to mourn? Keep Griefs cup ever full? Drink Sorrow from the lip of Scorn, Nor let the passion lull: And there are those that Joy has blest, That Sorrow ne'er has seen, That Mirth in ecstasy caressed; Of such was Coralline. She loved to hear the blackbird's note From his haunt in the ivied tree, Or watch the speckled thrush's throat Pour out its melody, ? To list the tuneful choir burst forth Wh...