WHEN I behold what pleasure is Pursuit, What life, what glorious eagerness it is; Then mark how full Possession falls from this, How fairer seems the blossom than the fruit-- I am perplext, and often stricken mute Wondering which attained the higher bliss, The winged insect, or the chrysalis It thrust aside with unreluctant foot. Spirit of verse, that still elud'st my art, Thou airy phantom that dost ever haunt me, O never, never rest upon my heart, If when I have thee I shall little want thee! Still flit away in moonlight, rain, and dew, Will-of-the-wisp, that I may still pursue! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWO SONGS: 2 by CECIL DAY LEWIS AFTER THE QUARREL by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE SONG OF HIAWATHA: THE FOUR WINDS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW FACING AN HOUR-GLASS by ELFRIDA DE RENNE BARROW LES BARICADES MISTERIEUSES (AFTER FRANCOIS COUPERIN) by GORDON BOTTOMLEY HIS NAME WAS KEKO by THEODORE BRIDGMAN |