LET thoughts go hence as from a mountain spring, Of the great dust of battle clean and whole, And the wild birds that have no nest nor goal Fold in a young man's breast their tranced wing; For thou art made of purest Light, a thing Art gave, beyond her own devout control; And Light upon thy seeing, suffering soul Hath wrought a sign for many journeying; Our sign. As up a wayside, after rain, When the blown beeches purple all the height And clouds sink to the sea-marge, suddenly The autumn sun (how soft, how solemn-bright!) Moves to the vacant dial, so is lain God's meaning Hand, thou chosen, upon thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WITH FLOWERS by EMILY DICKINSON TO FINE LADY WOULD-BE by BEN JONSON COLIN AND LUCY by THOMAS TICKELL TO THE RIGHT HON! WILLIAM EARL OF DARTMOUTH by PHILLIS WHEATLEY YOUTH'S SONGS by MAXWELL ANDERSON IN THE STILLNESS O' THE NIGHT by WILLIAM BARNES |