AS the tired voyager on stormy seas Invokes the coming of bright birds from shore, To waft him tidings, with the gentler breeze, Of dim, sweet woods that hear no billows roar; So, from the depth of days, when earth yet wore Her solemn beauty and primeval dew, I call you, gracious Forms! Oh, come! restore Awhile that holy freshness, and renew Life's morning dreams. Come with the voice, the lyre, Daughters of Judah! with the timbrel rise! Ye of the dark, prophetic, Eastern eyes, Imperial in their visionary fire; Oh! steep my soul in that old, glorious time, When God's own whisper shook the cedars of your clime! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHAPERON by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER TIRED TIM by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE GOLD AND STEEL; THE ANSWER by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON PROVERBS 31:25-29. THE MOTHER OF THE HOUSE by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE LAST RAY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LAND OF DREAMS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: KING LIMOS by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |