THOU art Orplede, my land Remotely gleaming; The mist arises from thy sun-bright strand To where the faces of the gods are beaming. Primeval rivers spring renewed Thy silver girdle weaving, child! Before the godhead bow subdued Kings, thy worshipers and watchers mild. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GEOMETRY IS THE MIND OF GOD by JAMES GALVIN MOTHERHOOD by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO A LOUSE, ON SEEING ONE ON A LADY'S BONNET AT CHURCH by ROBERT BURNS OLD FOLKS AT HOME by STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER SHELLEY'S SKYLARK by THOMAS HARDY THE DESCRIPTION OF COOKHAM by AEMILIA (BASSANO) LANYER ARNOLD [VON] WINKELRIED by JAMES MONTGOMERY |