LOW on the utmost boundary of the sight, The rising vapors catch the silver light; Thence fancy measures, as they parting fly, Which first will throw its shadow on the eye, Passing the source of light; and thence away, Succeeded quick by brighter still than they. For yet above these wafted clouds are seen (In a remoter sky still more serene) Others, detached in ranges through the air, Spotless as snow, and countless as they 're fair; Scattered immensely wide from east to west, The beauteous semblance of a flock at rest. These, to the raptured mind, aloud proclaim Their mighty Shepherd's everlasting name; And thus the loiterer's utmost stretch of soul Climbs the still clouds, or passes those that roll, And loosed imagination soaring goes High o'er his home and all his little woes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BARON'S LAST BANQUET by ALBERT GORTON GREENE TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE FIRST DAY: PAUL REVERE'S RIDE [APRIL 1775] by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SPRING, 1916 by ISAAC ROSENBERG WHICH WAS MOST TRULY DEAD? by CHARLES AUGUSTIN SAINTE-BEUVE THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND THE WOLF by AESOP THE GARLAND OF SLEEP by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER WILD ROSES AND SNOW by H. T. MACKENZIE BELL |