FAR above us where a jay Screams his matins to the day, Capped with gold and amethyst, Like a vapour from the forge Of a giant somewhere hid, Out of hearing of the clang Of his hammer, skirts of mist Slowly up the woody gorge Lift and hang. Softly as a cloud we go, Sky above and sky below, Down the river; and the dip Of the paddles scarcely breaks, With the little silvery drip Of the water as it shakes From the blades, the crystal deep Of the silence of the morn, Of the forest yet asleep; And the river reaches borne In a mirror, purple gray, Sheer away To the misty line of light, Where the forest and the stream, In the shadow meet and plight, Like a dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO AN AEOLIAN HARP by SARA TEASDALE FANCY IN NUBIBUS; OR, THE POET IN THE CLOUDS by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE EPIGRAM: A LAME BEGGAR by JOHN DONNE CROTALUS by FRANCIS BRET HARTE TO THE UNIMPLORED BELOVED by EDWARD SHANKS |