Too late, thou tender songster of the sky Trilling unseen, by things unseen inspired, I list thy far-heard cry That poets oft to kindred song hath fired, As floating through the purple veils of air Thy soul is poured on high, A little joy in an immense despair. Too late thou biddest me escape the earth, In ignorance of wrong To spin a little slender thread of song; On yet unwearied wing To rise and soar and sing, Not knowing death or birth Or any true unhappy human thing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN I WAS A BIRD by KATHERINE MANSFIELD MORNING IN CAMP by HERBERT BASHFORD THE SOLDIER GOING TO THE FIELD by WILLIAM DAVENANT MUSIC, FR. TWELFTH NIGHT by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE MY BED IS A BOAT by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON WHAT THEY ASK by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE JEWISH MARTYRS by W. V. B. EPITAPH ON GOODMAN HURST OF THE GEORGE AT HORSHAM by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |