
Above the
river dull and gray,
The rock cliffs tower;
The ancient water tore its
way
Where vines embower;
A winding driveway sweeps
along
In quiet peace,
Where once the torrent's
roar was song
Without surcease.
When life
is rushing much too fast,
I wander here
To cliffs recalling ages
past
That I revere.
I wonder I should ever weep
For sun or moon,
When earthly beauties round
me keep
Their priceless boon.
|