Reverie

At home they see on Skiddaw His royal purple lie, And autumn up in Newlands Arrayed in russet die, Or under burning woodland The still lake's gramarye. And far off and grim and sable The menace of the Gable Lifts up his stark aloofness Against the western sky. At vesper-time in Durham The level evening falls Upon the shadowy river That slides by ancient walls, Where out of crannied turrets The mellow belfry calls. And there sleep brings forgetting And morning no regretting, And love is laughter-wedded To health in happy halls.