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Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Recollections Of Love
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I.
How warm this woodland wild Recess!
     Love surely hath been breathing here;
     And this sweet bed of heath, my dear!
Swells up, then sinks with faint caress,
     As if to have you yet more near.

II.
Eight springs have flown, since last I lay
     On sea-ward Quantock`s heathy hills,
     Where quiet sounds from hidden rills
Float hear and there, like things astray,
     And high o`er head the sky-lark shrills.

III.
No voice as yet had made the air
     Be music with your name; yet why
     That asking look? that yearning sigh?
That sense of promise every where?
     Belovéd! flew your spirit by?

IV.
As when a mother doth explore
     The rose-mark on her long-lost child,
     I met, I loved you, maiden mild!
As whom I long had loved before--
     So deeply had I been beguiled.

V.
You stood before me like a thought,
     A dream remembered in a dream.
     But when those meek eyes first did seem
To tell me, Love within you wrought--
     O Greta, dear domestic stream!

VI.
Has not, since then, Love`s prompture deep,
     Has not Love`s whisper evermore
     Been ceaseless, as thy gentle roar?
Sole voice, when other voices sleep,
     Dear under-song in clamor`s hour.
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