Farewell, Fair Margent of the Sea

Farewell , fair margent of the sea,
Fair city of the noble bay;
I seek my Love who looks for me,
Not far away, not far away,
Over the hill of wood and lea,
And near that other bay adown
The winding valley lone and lown.

The valley with its tethered kine,
The orchard plots and fields of grain,
So tranquil in the broad sunshine,
More tranquil now the high stars reign,
And tranquil most and most divine
When over it comes floating soon
The mystic splendour of the moon.

The cottage nestles sheltered well
Among rich apple-trees embowered
In its side-nook of dimpled dell;
Roses and jasmine starry-flowered
Clothe all its front; the tide's long swell
Sounds up the valley slow and calm,
To ebb away a dying psalm.

Through clouds of delicate blossom white
The red tiles burn with steadfast glow,
Or through green leaves and apples bright
And hoary stems a-slanting low,
When morning crowns the eastern height;
The blue smoke quivering up the air
Its slender breath of household prayer;

The sweet flowers flush and glow and yearn,
With wild bees humming in their bloom,
The lane comes winding like a burn
Through banks of golden gorse and broom,
And edged with grass and fringed with fern;
The rapturous larks are singing high
In all the regions of the sky.

But that is day, these days of June
A-verging into hot July,
And this is night, more rich and boon,
Although its hours so swiftly fly:
O light of lovers, gracious moon,
My own Moon waits me full of love,
Brighter than all heaven's stars above.
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