Sometimes on my soul will throng Such a blossom-burst of song, That I cannot seize it all, Letting sweetest measures fall. Thus a child feels -- sudden sunk On a crowding violet bank, And delighted and amazed, Gathers in a flushed haste. Gathers them so fast and fleet, Little fingers cannot meet O'er the lot; and swifter still Than they cull, the wealth they spill. To that sweets o'erflooded nook, Casting back one longing look, At the last it takes away But one little odorous spray. Yet through many a day and night, Flinging back the fragrant sight, Cleaves to face, and hands, and feet, All the woodland's violets sweet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN EPITAPH UPON HUSBAND AND WIFE WHO DIED AND WERE BURIED by RICHARD CRASHAW THE BLUE AND THE GRAY by FRANCIS MILES FINCH SONNET: TO HOMER by JOHN KEATS THE FOUNDERS OF OHIO by WILLIAM HENRY VENABLE THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |