Poem by James Payn

Inverary

PLEASANT woods of Inverary,
  Shadowing far o’er lawn and lea,
Music of your summer murmur
  Breathes no more for me;
Underneath your stately arches
  Yet may dreamer, student, lie,
Poet at his perfect pleasure,—
  So no more shall I.

Far beside fair Douglas water
  Other charméd feet may stray,	
Seeking whence its song beginneth
  Half a summer’s day;
Where the ancient archway darkens,
  Deeper yet the blood-red line,
Cross the ford, and past the rapid:
  Nevermore shall mine.

Dhuloch, queen of inland waters,
  Virgin, yet so near allied,
Morn and eve with plaint and tremor
  Sought for Ocean’s bride;
Nevermore I woo thine echoes,
  Never let the oar-blades glance,
Lightly as the wings of heron,
  Not to break thy trance.

Long farewell to Inverary!
  Gleams no more the white-walled town,
Fallen is the ancient watch-tower,
  Hid Ben Büi’s frown;
Fades the purple of the moorlands,
  Fails the lake’s last look of blue
Through the trees of far Arkinglass,
  And my heart fails too.

1. The Backs
2. Grisedale Beck
3. Lake-Land
4. Wordsworth’s Grave
5. Heartholm

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