AT the poet's life-core lying Is a sheltered and sacred nest, Where, as yet, unfledged for flying, His callow fancies rest: Fancies, and thoughts, and feelings, Which the mother Psyche breeds, And passions whose dim revealings But torture their hungry needs. Yet, -- there cometh a summer splendor When the golden brood wax strong, And, with voices grand or tender, They rise to the heaven of song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WAR IS KIND: 23 by STEPHEN CRANE THE SOLSEQUIUM by ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE PORTRAIT D'UNE FEMME by EZRA POUND THE CASTLE BY THE SEA by JOHANN LUDWIG UHLAND REMINISCENCE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH ANOTHER REAPER by WILLIAM H. ARMSTRONG III TWO SONNETS FROM NEW YORK: QUESTIONS by ADELAIDE NICHOLS BAKER |