THE stream's breath tastes of the wood's perfume, Filled are the woods with foam: And the sea like a sheet 'neath the summer noon, With the languorous swerve runs home. The beat of a pulse the warm sun stirs In the air, the sea and stream, Beckons the heart- and the soul allures Forth, into April's dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IT IS FINISHED' by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI CORRYMEELA by NESTA HIGGINSON SKRINE ADLESTROP by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS EIGHTEEN SIXTY-ONE by WALT WHITMAN HYMN WRITTEN IN DESPONDENCY by ANN ELIZA BLEECKER THE DYING DRAGOMAN by MATHILDE BLIND THE WANDERER: 4. IN SWITZERLAND: A QUIET MOMEMENT by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON VAUCLUSE by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER A LETTER, ON HIS DEPARTURE FORM LONDON; TO R.L., ESQ. by JOHN BYROM |