Classic Poem

Here let us pause awhile, fair one, and rest!—
The toilsome ascent hence has wearied thee,
And much, I fear, it has not rested me—
Here let us pause awhile, here rest, 'tis best.
How beautiful the scene! How fair to see!
No Eastern scene, I ween, can fairer be.
I am, at such a time and place, possessed
With joy supreme, with thee, dear one, to be.
The towering cliffs are eloquent; and so
The calm and peaceful river at our feet,
Flowing in stately measure far below,
From which the hum of voices e'en is sweet.
But what is all the world to me beside
The hope that thou wilt be my loving bride!

Here let us pause awhile, fair one, and rest!—
The toilsome ascent hence has wearied thee,
And much, I fear, it has not rested me—
Here let us pause awhile, here rest, 'tis best.
How beautiful the scene! How fair to see!
No Eastern scene, I ween, can fairer be.
I am, at such a time and place, possessed
With joy supreme, with thee, dear one, to be.
The towering cliffs are eloquent; and so
The calm and peaceful river at our feet,
Flowing in stately measure far below,
From which the hum of voices e'en is sweet.
But what is all the world to me beside
The hope that thou wilt be my loving bride!