DAY followed day; years perish; still mine eyes Are opened on the self-same round of space; Yon fadeless forests in their Titan grace, And the large splendors of those opulent skies. I watch, unwearied, the miraculous dyes Of dawn or sunset; the soft boughs which lace Round some coy dryad in a lonely place, Thrilled with low whispering and strange sylvan sighs: Weary? the poet's mind is fresh as dew, And oft re-filled as fountains of the light. His clear child's soul finds something sweet and new Even in a weed's heart, the carved leaves of corn, The spear-like grass, the silvery rim of morn, A cloud rose-edged, and fleeting stars at night! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE METROPOLITAN TOWER by SARA TEASDALE FRAGMENT, ON THE BACK OF THE POET'S MS. OF CANTO I OF 'DON JUAN' by GEORGE GORDON BYRON IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 1 by ALFRED TENNYSON THIS COMPOST: 2. by WALT WHITMAN ROUNDEL by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS TO -- OCCASIONED BY HIS POEM ON THE SUN by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |