THE rain had fallen, the Poet arose, He pass'd by the town and out of the street; A light wind blew from the gates of the sun, And waves of shadow went over the wheat; And he sat him down in a lonely place, And chanted a melody loud and sweet, That made the wild-swan pause in her cloud, And the lark drop down at his feet. The swallow stopt as he hunted the fly, The snake slipt under a spray, The wild hawk stood with the down on his beak, And stared, with his foot on the prey; And the nightingale thought, 'I have sung many songs, But never a one so gay, For he sings of what the world will be When the years have died away.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLACK MAMMY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 28 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING AN UNINSCRIBED MONUMENT - BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS by HERMAN MELVILLE THE LAST GOODBYE by LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON DEEDS OF VALOR AT SANTIAGO by CLINTON SCOLLARD BURNS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER COUNTRY DOCTOR by DANA KNEELAND AKERS A VISION OF THE VOICE OF YAHVEH by AMOS ON THE DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |