Here you will find thePoemIn The Meadows At Mantuaof poet Arthur Symons
But to have lain upon the grass One perfect day, one perfect hour, Beholding all things mortal pass Into the quiet of green grass; But to have lain and loved the sun, Under the shadow of the trees, To have been found in unison, Once only, with the blessed sun; Ah! in these flaring London nights, Where midnight withers into morn, How quiet a rebuke it writes Across the sky of London nights! Upon the grass at Mantua These London nights were all forgot. They wake for me again: but ah, The meadow-grass at Mantua!
