LEVEL with the late rays The hollow green vast rondure holds Shallows and deeps of light and dark, Nothing but light and shadow of dark, No stir, no sound. The hollow bowl of silence holds Not an echo of dying sound. But as a crystal bowl long, long will ring If but a finger-tip's faint tap should sting Silence to a sudden cry:— So now, prolonging one low happy sigh, One low breath to that tingling Lustrous rim still clinging, Sings, sighs, sings, sighs All round and dies Away and unperceived. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO DICK, ON HIS SIXTH BIRTHDAY by SARA TEASDALE UPON BEN JONSON [JOHNSON] by ROBERT HERRICK THIS IS NOT I by FRANCES DAVIS ADAMS WOMEN'S WAR THOUGHTS by MARY HUNTER AUSTIN THE MODERN TIPPLING PHILOSOPHERS by JAMES HAY BEATTIE THE LINE MEN by WILLIAM ROSE BENET ASPIRATIONS: 2 by MATHILDE BLIND THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 67. THE THREE AGES OF WOMAN: 2 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |