CALL me no more, O gentle stream, To wander through thy sunny dream, No more to lean at twilight cool Above thy weir and glimmering pool. Surely I know thy hoary dawns, The silver crisp on all thy lawns, The softly swirling undersong That rocks thy reeds the winter long. Surely I know the joys that ring Through the green deeps of leafy spring; I know the elfin cups and domes That are their small and secret homes. Yet is the light for ever lost That daily once thy meadows crossed, The voice no more by thee is heard That matched the song of stream and bird. Call me no more!—thy waters roll Here, in the world that is my soul, And here, though Earth be drowned in night, Old love shall dwell with old delight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE TOMBS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY by FRANCIS BEAUMONT LINES WRITTEN TO HIS WIFE [WHILE ON A VISIT TO UPPER INDIA] by REGINALD HEBER DAYS OF THE MONTH by MOTHER GOOSE HAPPY CHRISTMASTIDE by GERTRUDE ELOISE BEALER QUATRAIN: POETRY by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE CLERK'S PROLOGUE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |