Deep in a vale where rocks on every side
Shut out the winds, and scarcely let the sun
Between them dart his rays down one by one,
Where all was still and cool in summer-tide,
And softly, with her whispering waves that sighed,
Her silver course, made bold to fleet and run
Down leafy falls to woodlands dense and wide,
There stood a tiny plain, just large enow
To give small mountain-folk right room to dance,
With oaks and limes and maples ringed around;
Hither I came, and viewed its turf askance,
Its solitude with beauty seemed a-glow,—
My Love had walked there and ’twas holy ground!
Gustaf Rosenhane (1619–1684) Sweden
Translated by Edmund Gosse
Source: The Sonnets of Europe: A Volume of Translations, selected and arranged, with notes by Samuel Waddington, Walter Scott, 1888
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