I am as one unlearned, uncouth, From country come to join the youth Of some sweet town in quest of truth; A skilless northern Nazarene -- From whence no good can ever come. I stand apart as one that's dumb. I hope -- I fear -- I hasten home. I plunge into my wilds again. I catch your dulcet symphonies, I drink the low sweet melodies That stream through these dark feathered trees Like echoes from some far churchbell, Or music on the water spilled Beneath the still moon's holy spell, And life is sweeter -- all is well -- The soul is fed. The heart is filled. I move among these frowning firs, Black bats wheel by in rippled whirs, While naught else living breathes or stirs. I peep -- I lift the boughs apart -- I tiptoe up -- I try to rise -- I strive to gaze into the eyes Of charmers charming thus so wise -- I coin your faces on my heart. I greet you on your brown bent hills Discoursing with the beaded rills, While over all the full moon spills His flood in gorgeous plenilune. White skilful hands sweep o'er the strings, I heed as when a seraph sings, I learn to catch the whisperings, I list into the night's sweet noon. I see you by the streaming strand, A singing sea-shell in each hand, And silk locks tossing as you stand, And tangled in the toying breeze. And lo! the sea with salty tears, While white hands toss, then disappear, Doth plead that you for years and years Will stay and sing unto the seas. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEATH OF GRANT by AMBROSE BIERCE SWEENEY AMONG THE NIGHTINGALES by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT ON THE DEATH OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN by PHILIP FRENEAU A NIGHT-PIECE ON DEATH by THOMAS PARNELL TO A SKYLARK by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE LAST MAN: INSIGNIFICANCE OF THE WORLD by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |