RHYTHMS of exultation flow In dusky regions far behind The formal meadows of the mind. Sighs waft syllables, as blow The winds the grasses to and fro. The shape of cloud, as thought effaces Dream, eclipses the moon's lustre. My winged stars, like swallows, cluster In the deep enchanted spaces That imagination traces. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE UNDERWORLD by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE PROGRESS OF POETRY; A VARIATION by MATTHEW ARNOLD LITTLE BROWN BABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE VANISHING RED by ROBERT FROST SOMETHING BEYOND by MARY CLEMMER AMES HUDSON |