When wintry tempests agitate the deep, On some lone rock I love to sit reclined; And view the sea-birds on wild pinions sweep, And hear the roaring of the stormy wind, That, rushing through the caves with hollow sound, Seems like the voices of those viewless forms Which hover wrapped in gloomy mist around, Directing in their course the rolling storms. Then, Melancholy! thy sweet power I feel, For there thine influence reigns o'er all the scene; Then o'er my heart thy "mystic transports" steal, And from each trifling thought my bosom wean. My raptured spirit soars on wing sublime Beyond the narrow bounds of space or time! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOON by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES JUNE BRACKEN AND HEATHER by ALFRED TENNYSON HAWTHORN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A NIGHT FANCY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE SONG, FR. A VISION OF GIORGIONE: GEMMA'S SPRING SONG by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |