IN yonder grim, funereal forest lies A foul lagoon, o'erfilmed by dust and slime, Hidden and ghastly, like a thought of crime In some stern soul kept secret from men's eyes: But if perchance a healthful breeze should rise, And part those stifling boughs, sweet morning's prime, And the fair flush of evening's cordial clime, Reflect therein the calmly glorious skies: Is't so with man? holds not the darkened breast, Turbid, corrupt, o'ergrown by worldliness, One little spot whereon love's smile may rest? Lo! a pure impulse breathes, the sinclouds part, The grief-defilements melt in hopes that bless, And pour God's quickening sunshine on the heart! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMN TO INTELLECTUAL BEAUTY by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY TO MRS. AIKIN by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A WEATHER PROPHET by JANE BARLOW STANZAS TO HELEN M-- M-- by BERNARD BARTON TO M. I. (2) by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 45. FAREWELL TO JULIET (7) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT TO MISS ANNA MARIA TRAVERS. AN EPISTLE FROM SCOTLAND by CHARLOTTE BRERETON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. THROUGH THE LONG NIGHT by EDWARD CARPENTER |