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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409099" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet 08</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409099" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">At last, beloved Nature! I have met<br>Thee face to face upon thy breezy hills,<br>And boldly, where thy inmost bowers are set,<br>Gazed on thee naked in thy mountain rills.<br>When first I felt thy breath upon my brow,<br>Tears of strange ecstasy gushed out like rain,<br>And with a longing, passionate as vain,<br>I strove to clasp thee. But, I know not how,<br>Always before me didst thou seem to glide;<br>And often from one sunny mountain-side,<br>Upon the next bright peak I saw thee kneel,<br>And heard thy voice upon the billowy blast;<br>But, climbing, only reached that shrine to feel<br>The shadow of a Presence which had passed.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Henry+Timrod">Henry Timrod</a></strong></div>

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