IT is out in the mountains I find him, My snowy deer With silver horns like dew, Horns that sparkle. I think I see him in the hollow, He is on the high hill! I think I see him on the hill, He is leaping through the air! I think I can ride upon his back, He is like moonlight I cannot hold, He is like thoughts I lose. He flows by All white . . . He makes me think of the brook Out of the hills With its little foamy points Like his twitching ears, Like his horns of silver Sparkling. The brook is his only friend When he travels . . . Silverhorn, Silverhorn! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARRIAGE by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE THE PROBLEM by RALPH WALDO EMERSON MY LOST YOUTH by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ST. ISAAC'S CHURCH, PETROGRAD by CLAUDE MCKAY THE MORAL FABLES: THE SWALLOW, AND THE OTHER BIRDS by AESOP ON THE LATE S.T. COLERIDGE by WASHINGTON ALLSTON |