Page:Enoch Arden, etc - Tennyson - 1864.djvu/48

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ENOCH ARDEN.
 The mountain wooded to the peak, the lawnsAnd winding glades high up like ways to Heaven,The slender coco’s drooping crown of plumes,The lightning flash of insect and of bird,The lustre of the long convolvulusesThat coil’d around the stately stems, and ranEv’n to the limit of the land, the glowsAnd glories of the broad belt of the world,All these he saw; but what he fain had seenHe could not see, the kindly human face,Nor ever hear a kindly voice, but heardThe myriad shriek of wheeling ocean-fowl,The league-long roller thundering on the reef,The moving whisper of huge trees that branch’dAnd blossom’d in the zenith, or the sweepOf some precipitous rivulet to the wave,As down the shore he ranged, or all day longSat often in the seaward-gazing gorge,A shipwreck’d sailor, waiting for a sail:No sail from day to day, but every day
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