"That we, though far from her, are near,
Yea, present, though in exile here?"




Le rossignol qui du haut d'une branche se regarde
dedans, croit etre tombe dans la riviere. Il est au sommet
d'un chene, et toutefois il a peur de se noyer.
CYRANO DE BERGERAC.

The trees' reflection in the misty stream
Dies off in livid steam;
Whilst up among the actual boughs, forlorn,
The tender wood-doves mourn.

How wan the face, O traveller, this wan
Gray landscape looked upon;
And how forlornly in the high tree-tops
Lamented thy drowned hopes!


Paysages Belges


BRUXELLES

Hills and fences hurry by
Blent in greenish-rosy flight,