SLOW toiling upward from the misty vale, I leave the bright enamelled zones below; No more for me their beauteous bloom shall glow, Their lingering sweetness load the morning gale; Few are the slender flowerets, scentless, pale, That on their ice-clad stems all trembling blow Along the margin of unmelting snow; Yet with unsaddened voice thy verge I hail, White realm of peace above the flowering line; Welcome thy frozen domes, thy rocky spires! O'er thee undimmed the moon-girt planets shine, On thy majestic altars fade the fires That filled the air with smoke of vain desires, And all the unclouded blue of heaven is thine! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 26. FIRST LOVE by THOMAS CAMPION THE WIND IN A FROLIC by WILLIAM HOWITT THE SMACK IN SCHOOL by WILLIAM PITT PALMER I LIFT MY CANDLE by ELLEN ANDERSON OUTSIDE THE TOYSHOP by JANE BARLOW |