Sometimes, in the summer night, Floating o'er the silent deep, Did my fingers in their flight Through the slumbering waters sweep. Raising then my hand, I spied Drops of ocean-fire and light From my gleaming fingers slide, Like the shooting-stars of night. Thus I dipped, with gliding thought Thro' thy deep, mysterious soul; Now, with light and fire full-fraught, O'er me dazzling doth it roll. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SECOND BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 12 by THOMAS CAMPION THE BRIDGE: PROEM. TO BROOKLYN BRIDGE by HAROLD HART CRANE TO ELIZABETH, COUNTESS OF RUTLAND by BEN JONSON ROBIN'S SECRET by KATHARINE LEE BATES SOIS SAGE O MA DOULEUR by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE ST. HELENA by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER THE EARTH MOTHER by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON ON THESE LABOURED POEMS OF THE DECEASED AUTHOR, MR. WILLIAM BOSWORTH by L. C. |