a legend of the south.
15
At early morn he seeks for game,
For well he loves the chase,
The red deer trembles when he sees
The time-worn hermit's face.
For well he loves the chase,
The red deer trembles when he sees
The time-worn hermit's face.
And oft he climbs the loftiest steeps,
Where soaring eagles feed,
To gaze upon a stormy sky,
As if he sought to read
Where soaring eagles feed,
To gaze upon a stormy sky,
As if he sought to read
The destiny of one so strange,
Self-exiled from his home—
An alien from his own sweet land,
Amid our shades to roam.
Self-exiled from his home—
An alien from his own sweet land,
Amid our shades to roam.
A poet and an artist, he
Dwelt 'neath his native sky;
Amid those glorious works of art
Too beautiful to die.
Dwelt 'neath his native sky;
Amid those glorious works of art
Too beautiful to die.
Fame and ambition made for him
A halo round his brow;
Alas, for all those lovely dreams!
Where have they flown to, now?
A halo round his brow;
Alas, for all those lovely dreams!
Where have they flown to, now?
