The young Endymion sleeps Endymion's sleep; The shepherd-boy whose tale was left half told! The solemn grove uplifts its shield of gold To the red rising moon, and loud and deep The nightingale is singing from the steep; It is midsummer, but the air is cold; Can it be death? Alas, beside the fold A shepherd's pipe lies shattered near his sheep. Lo! in the moonlight gleams a marble white, On which I read: "Here lieth one whose name Was writ in water." And was this the meed Of his sweet singing? Rather let me write: "The smoking flax before it burst to flame Was quenched by death, and broken the bruised reed." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLESSED VIRGIN, COMPARED TO THE AIR WE BREATHE by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 2 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE OLD SWIMMIN'-HOLE by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY FLAMMONDE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE OLD FERRYMAN by ANTIPHILUS OF BYZANTIUM PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 98. AL-RASCHID by EDWIN ARNOLD |