(For Kenton) An iron hand has stilled the throats That throbbed with loud and rhythmic glee And dammed the flood of silver notes That drenched the world in melody. The blosmy apple boughs are yearning For their wild choristers' returning, But no swift wings flash through the tree. Ye that were glad and fleet and strong, Shall Silence take you in her net? And shall Death quell that radiant song Whose echo thrills the meadow yet? ted morning of the year Is old and stale now ye are gone. No friendly songs the children hear Among the bushes on the lawn. When babies wander out a-Maying Will ye, their bards, afar be straying? Unhymned by you, what is the dawn? Nay, since ye loved ye cannot die. Above the stars is set your nest. Through Heaven's fields ye sing and fly And in the trees of Heaven rest. And little children in their dreaming Shall see your soft black plumage gleaming And smile, by your clear music blest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHAT DO I CARE by SARA TEASDALE EPIGRAM: 45. ON MY FIRST SON by BEN JONSON QUATORZAINS: 11. A CLOCK STRIKING AT MIDNIGHT by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE BAKER'S VAN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN ON THE LOSS OF A PIOUS FRIEND by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. THE COMING OF THE LORD by EDWARD CARPENTER BRISTOWE TRAGEDIE: OR, THE DEATH OF SYR CHARLES BAWDIN by THOMAS CHATTERTON |