Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that, when I waked, I cried to dream again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: THE FOX; FOR ANN PEARN by EDITH SITWELL THE SELF-SEEKER by ROBERT FROST THE MOON by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES LOVE IN THE VALLEY (VERSION A) by GEORGE MEREDITH ODES I, 38. AD MINISTRAM by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS FRANCE; THE 18TH YEAR OF THESE STATES by WALT WHITMAN CEREMONIAL ODE; INTENDED FOR A UNIVERSITY by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE THAT GENERAL UTILITY RAG, BY OUR OWN IRVING BERLIN by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |