Sweet as the lawn beneath his sandalled tread, Or the scarce rippled stream beneath his oar, So gently buffeted it laughed the more, His life was, and the few blithe words he said. One or two poets read he, and reread; One or two friends with boyish ardour wore Close to his heart, incurious of the lore Dodonian woods might murmur overhead. Ah, demons of the whirlwind, have a care, What, trumpeting your triumphs, ye undo! The earth once won, begins your long despair That never, never is his bliss for you. He breathed betimes this clement island air And in unwitting lordship saw the blue. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LONESOME CHILD by KATHERINE MANSFIELD ADVICE TO A RAVEN IN RUSSIA by JOEL BARLOW THE SCHOOL BOY, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE INTROSPECTIVE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI STILL FALLS THE RAIN; THE RAIDS, 1940. NIGHT AND DAWN by EDITH SITWELL THE POET'S SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON THE PRINCESS: SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON |