This darksome burn, horseback brown, His rollrock highroad roaring down, In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam Flutes and low to the lake falls home. A windpuff-bonnet of fawn froth Turns and twindles over the broth Of a pool so pitchblack, fell-frowning. It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning. Degged with dew, dappled with dew Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through, Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern, And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn. What would the world be, once bereft Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left, O let them be left, wildness and wet; Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JAMES GARBER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS LYING IN THE GRASS by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE MISSIONARY HYMN by REGINALD HEBER THE SONG OF THE SHIRT by THOMAS HOOD TO F - (MRS. FRANCES SARGENT OSGOOD) by EDGAR ALLAN POE AN EPIGRAM ON SCOLDING by JONATHAN SWIFT |