Perfume of honey, incense sweet, Among the trees Where sleeps the river at their feet, To drone of bees; And lures the road, on winding way, To follow still, Beyond the bend, afar, astray, Beyond the soaring hill -- O, soul of mine, is this to thee Not ecstasy? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 15. ON DOMESTIC MANNERS (UNFINISHED) by MARK AKENSIDE THOMAS GRAY by ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON SONG by CHARLES GRANGER BLANDEN THE WALTZ by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE MOTHER by GEORGE HERBERT CLARKE SALAD: BROW by EDWARD JAMES MORTIMER COLLINS LINES COMPOSED FOR A MEMORIAL OF ASHLEY COWPER, ESQ by WILLIAM COWPER |