AN inspiration caught from dubious hues Filled him, and mystic wrynesses he chased; For they lead farther than the single-faced, Wave subtler promise when desire pursues. The moon of cloud discoloured was his Muse, His pipe the reed of the old moaning waste. Love was to him with anguish fast enlaced, And Beauty where she walked blood-shot the dews. Men railed at such a singer; women thrilled Responsively: he sang not Nature's own Divinest, but his lyric had a tone, As 'twere a forest-echo of her voice: What barrenly they yearn for seemed distilled From what they dread, who do through tears rejoice. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I AM THE WAY' by ALICE MEYNELL ITALIAN MUSIC IN DAKOTA (THE SEVENTEENTH - THE FINEST REGIMENTAL BAND) by WALT WHITMAN IN THE FOREST by ELINOR PETERSON ALLEN BEAUTIFUL WORLD! by JOHN STUART BLACKIE GIBBON by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES INTERCESSION by CORDELIA A. COX TALES OF THE HALL: BOOK 16. LADY BARBARA; OR, THE GHOST by GEORGE CRABBE |