In a haunt in the depths of the forest, Enshrined by a lonely wood lake, With the trees bending over its waters Where moon-crested ripples break, -- Where far down the long arching vistas, The moon-beams all peacefully lie, And the night wind that steals through the tree-tops, Moans softly and lingers by: -- Here, oft in the midnight above me, I watch a lone, hemlock-wreathed star; Till over the sands of the silence, Wave music comes swelling afar. My mind is born on by the singing, A rudderless craft on the deep; And 'tis left by the ebbing waters, To strand on the sands of sleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HER LETTER by FRANCIS BRET HARTE THE OLD CLOCK ON THE STAIRS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW CARLYLE AND EMERSON by MONTGOMERY SCHUYLER CURFEW MUST NOT RING TONIGHT by ROSE HARTWICK THORPE SHELLEY'S DEATH by ALFRED AUSTIN TO HIS INGENIOUS FRIEND, MR. N. TATE by PHILIP AYRES |