I HERE'S the mould of a musical bird long passed from light, Which over the earth before man came was winging; There's a contralto voice I heard last night, That lodges in me still with its sweet singing. II Such a dream is Time that the coo of this ancient bird Has perished not, but is blent, or will be blending Mid visionless wilds of space with the voice that I heard, In the full-fugued song of the universe unending. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO OUR BLESSED LADY (1) by HENRY CONSTABLE THE SONG OF A HEATHEN by RICHARD WATSON GILDER ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD by THOMAS GRAY THESEUS by THOMAS STURGE MOORE SEVEN SAD SONNETS: 5. SHE THINKS OF THE FAITHFUL ONE by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS |