THE blent delight of summer! Far and faint The hills, hard by the hayfield's fragrancy, And yonder bosky thicket whence to me Floated last night the thrush's mellow plaint, Fit sound to woo the moon. No cloud-flecks taint The crystal sky that is so calm to see; The heyday of the birds is come, the glee Of brooks is heard; each tree stands like a saint In chastened meditation. When the bard Birth-claimed of seven cities oped his eyes (Not blind as yet) upon a world more young, Naught was more lovely. Here in fairest guise Beauty still waits upon the golden tongue To show her forth, for man's most fond regard. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A ROUGH RHYME ON A ROUGH MATTER; THE ENGLISH GAME LAWS by CHARLES KINGSLEY TO A PINE TREE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL SONG OF THE SILENT LAND by JOHANN GAUDENZ VON SALIS-SEEWIS THE OLD SCHOOL HOUSE by ALEXANDER ANDERSON THE FIRST AIR-RAID WARNING by EVELYN D. BANGAY A LEAVE-TAKING: 2 by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE OLD PICTURES IN FLORENCE by ROBERT BROWNING TO RALPH LEYCESTER, ESQ., IN ANSWER TO A LETTER by JOHN BYROM |