POEMS. CLARIBEL. A MELODY. WHERE Claribel low-lieth The breezes pause and die, Letting the rose-leaves fall: But the solemn oak tree sigheth, Thick-leaved, ambrosial, With an ancient melody Of an inward agony, Where Claribel low-lieth. At eve the beetle boometh Athwart the thicket lone : At noon the wild bee hummeth About the moss'd headstone : At midnight the moon cometh, The fledgling throstle lispeth, The slumbrous wave outwelleth, The babbling runnel crispeth, The hollow grot replieth Where Claribel low-lieth. |