Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By William ElleryChanning309 The Barren Moors
O
On your bare rocks I love to lie!—
They stand like crags upon the shores,
Or clouds upon a placid sky.
The fox pursues his lonely way,
Those solitudes can fairly sate
The passage of my loneliest day.
Where not a ship can ever land,
Those dim uncertainties to me
For something veritable stand.
Which busy Life delights to feel,—
I stand in this deserted hall,
And thus the wounds of time conceal.
Shall vex me now where not a sound
Falls on the ear, and every day
Is soft as silence most profound.
The agitating world can come,
A single Pensive thought upholds
The arches of this dreamy home.
Replies to you, O barren moors!
Between, I stand, a creature taught
To stand between two silent floors.