I rest me deep within the wood, Drawn by its silent call, Far from the throbbing crowd of men On nature's breast I fall. My couch is sweet with blossoms fair, A bed of fragrant dreams, And soft upon my ear there falls The lullaby of streams. The tumult of my heart is stilled, Within this sheltered spot, Deep in the bosom of the wood, Forgetting, and—forgot! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO AN UNBORN PAUPER CHILD by THOMAS HARDY DERELICT; A REMINISCENCE OF R.L.S.'S TREASURE ISLAND by YOUNG EWING ALLISON EXPEDITIONAL by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB BARBARA AT THE WINDOW by ALICE CARY |