Explore "The Watershed" by Alice Meynell on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Lines written between Munich and Verona"
Black mountains pricked with pointed pine
A melancholy sky.
Out-distanced was the German vine,
The sterile fields lay high.
From swarthy Alps I travelled forth
Aloft; it was the north, the north; / Bound for the Noon was I.
I seemed to breast the streams that day; / I met, opposed, withstood / The northward rivers on their way, / My heart against the flood -- / My heart that pressed to rise and reach, / And felt the love of altering speech, / Of frontiers, in its blood.
But O the unfolding South! the burst / Of summer! O to see / Of all the southward brooks the first! / The travelling heart went free / With endless streams; that strife was stopped; / And down a thousand vales I dropped, / I flowed to Italy.