OH the glory of high places, wind-blown earth and crystal sky; The magic of the hilltops, the moving clouds and high A sunlit hawk on quiet, slanting wings. He drifts and curves and balances, and now my spirit flings Aside the chains of earth, and soars up with the hawk and sings; Oh the wonder of my passage—and the ease. The smell of pine and water; sunlight-arrows on the trees; Beneath, sun-shadowed amethyst and amber. Now I cease To feel my earthly chains—my soaring soul Beyond the sun-warmed pines, o'er flashing water seeks the goal; Below, the white of surf, and far above the ocean's roll The flashing white of myriad sea-gulls' wings. On golden light of morning, I fly beyond these weary things Of earth,—this sickness, sorrow, and the emptiness death brings, The heavy-wingèd night whose thoughts like stifling feathers fall, As I lie quiet, staring at the pattern on the wall, Until with soul out-stretching, I reach a light above the pall; In the glory of the morning, to height of heights I fly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MUSKETAQUID by RALPH WALDO EMERSON TO A LOCOMOTIVE IN WINTER by WALT WHITMAN A SLUMBER SONG by A. HOLCOMBE AIKEN INVITATION TO A PAINTER: 1 by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE CARPENTER by AMY BRUNER ALMY |