SWEET in the rushes The reed-singers make A music that hushes The life of the lake; The leaves are dumb, And the tides are still, And no calls come From the flocks on the hill. Forgotten now Are nightingales, And on his bough The linnet fails, -- Midway the mere My mirrored boat Shall rest and hear A slenderer note. Though, heart, you measure But one proud rhyme, You build a treasure Confounding time -- Sweet in the rushes The reed-singers make A music that hushes The life of the lake. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PRISONER OF CHILLON: INTRODUCTORY SONNET by GEORGE GORDON BYRON SONNET ON CATHERINE WORDSWORTH by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH OUR HERITAGE by ISIDORE G. ASCHER TWELVE SONNETS: 8 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) PSALM 144 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE LATE STAND-TO by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 8 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |