THE wild-rose bush lets loll Her sweet-breathed petals on the pool, The bream-pool overshadowed with the cool Of oaks where myriad mumbling wings patrol. There the live dimness burrs with droning glees Of hobby-horses with their starting eyes And violet humble-bees and dizzy flies; That from the dewsprings drink the honeyed lees. Up the slow stream the immemorial bream (For when had Death dominion over them?) Through green pavilions of ghost leaf and stem, A conclave of blue shadows in a dream, Glide on; idola that forgotten plan, Incomparably wise, the doom of man. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UNCLE JIM'S BAPTIST REVIVAL HYMN by SIDNEY LANIER AUTUMN DIALOGUE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER POE'S COTTAGE AT FORDHAM by JOHN HENRY BONER TO MY GRANDMOTHER; SUGGESTED BY A PICTURE BY MR. ROMNEY by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON THE MIST AND ALL by DIXIE WILLSON COMPOSED BY THE SIDE OF GRASMERE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |