MY life feels like a mouse In some strange giant's house; Or like a single fly In a Saharan sky: Small part in life have I, Yet of one sort with it whole Is my small soul. Bird-life makes glad the trees, And tree-life throngs our hill, But life would fill An airier hive with souls for bees More room than, far from shore, A night-sky coops above wide seas: Though that were packed, outside were more. My eyes drink up the swallow's flight Swift, smooth and light: Their joy is free. The sound that heaves Like music up from a mile of leaves, Is glory to me. Then, there are waters gurgling along, And ladies together singing a song, Sounds that, entering my head, Move more than can be said. Oh! and by how much life, thought of, should Thrill more than flight, song, stream or wood! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ODE, PARAPHRASED: THE CUP by ANACREON A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 12. A RENUNCIATION by THOMAS CAMPION ON THE COLLAR OF MRS. DINGLEY'S LAP-DOG by JONATHAN SWIFT A FAERY SONG, SUNG BY THE PEOPLE OF FAERY OVER DIARMUID by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS FIRST ICE by KENNETH SLADE ALLING LOST HAPPINESS by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS MAGDALEN by GEORGE KENYON ASHENDON PSALM 19. [THE HEAVENS ABOVE AND THE LAW WITHIN] by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |