Madonna
Let me, calm face, remain
For ever in these sweet sequestered nooks,
Remote from pain,
Where leafy laurustinus overlooks
The blue abounding main.
Ne’er will I crave, I vow,
Your loveliness despite, that we may stand
More nigh than now;
You, with the fresh-plucked roses in your hand,
And I with inclined brow.
With air, and sea, and sky,
And penetrative music on the beach,
All that is high,
And far, and holy, and beyond our reach,
I you identify.
Then, lady, let me stay,
Here where no storm nor surge of discontent
Can find its way;
Hearkening your holy admonitions, blent
With murmurs from the bay.
