30.07.2007, 12:33
Oxford, since late I left thy peaceful shore,
Much I regret thy domes with turrets crowned,
Thy crested walls with twining ivy bound,
Thy gothic fanes, dim isles, and cloisters hoar,
And treasured rolls of wisdom's ancient lore;
Nor less thy varying bells, which hourly sound
In pensive chime, or ring in lively round,
Or toll in the slow curfew's solemn roar;
Much too thy moonlight walks, and musings grave
Mid silent shades of high-embrowering trees,
And much thy sister-streams, whose willows wave
In whispering cadence to the evening breeze;
But most those friends, whose much-loved converse gave
Thy gentle charms a tenfold power to please.
Much I regret thy domes with turrets crowned,
Thy crested walls with twining ivy bound,
Thy gothic fanes, dim isles, and cloisters hoar,
And treasured rolls of wisdom's ancient lore;
Nor less thy varying bells, which hourly sound
In pensive chime, or ring in lively round,
Or toll in the slow curfew's solemn roar;
Much too thy moonlight walks, and musings grave
Mid silent shades of high-embrowering trees,
And much thy sister-streams, whose willows wave
In whispering cadence to the evening breeze;
But most those friends, whose much-loved converse gave
Thy gentle charms a tenfold power to please.