PLEASURES lie thickest where no pleasures seem: There's not a leaf that falls upon the ground But holds some joy, of silence, or of sound, Some sprite begotten of a summer dream. The very meanest things are made supreme With innate ecstacy. No grain of sand But moves a bright and million-peopled land, And hath its Edens and its Eves, I deem. For Love, though blind himself, a curious eye Hath lent me, to behold the hearts of things, And touch'd mine ear with power. Thus, far or nigh, Minute or mighty, fix'd or free with wings, Delight from many a nameless covert sly Peeps sparkling, and in tones familiar sings. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MOTHER NIGHT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SEA POPPIES by HILDA DOOLITTLE LOVE IS LIKE A DIZZINESS by JAMES HOGG HAIL COLUMBIA by JOSEPH HOPKINSON THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: DEDICATORY SONNET by EDMUND SPENSER |