A SINGULAR virtue is in the heat of spring, The first great heat that, like a murmurless stream, Whelms us about. The languor of a dream Is poured around us. Sun and stillness wring All keenness from activity, yet bring An easiness of living, peace supreme. More sweet than vigorous pinions do I deem A happy hovering on uncertain wing. In its enchantment we disown our race For peoples of less restlessness and wrath; Sicilian shepherds piping in a space Of sunlit pasture-land or checkered path, Moors blinking idly in the market-place, Or Roman courtiers sauntering to the bath. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MAID'S TRAGEDY by FRANCIS BEAUMONT UNTO US A CHILD IS BORN by AGNES H. BEGBIE THE DEATH-MASK OF JOHN CLARE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN AT ALTON BAY by HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH AN HYMENEAL DIALOGUE: BRIDE AND GROOM by THOMAS CAREW |