The cat she walks on padded claws, The wolf on the hills lays stealthy paws, Feathered birds in the rain-sweet sky At their ease in the air, flit low, flit high. The oak's blind, tender roots pierce deep, His green crest towers, dimmed in sleep, Under the stars whose thrones are set Where never prince hath journeyed yet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEBT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR RIDDLE: MAN, STOOL, DOG by MOTHER GOOSE PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 88. AL-MUGHNI by EDWIN ARNOLD WRITTEN IN ZIMMERMAN'S SOLITUDE by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS THE HEATHER ON FIRE by MATHILDE BLIND SONG, FR. A VISION OF GIORGIONE: FELICE'S SONG by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |