ON A DOWNY feather of the dove, Earth, I lie: The bird is flying down eternity. Far out, and far under and over, the flocks of stars are flying as in the autumn winds ... Whither are they winging? to what nests in what radiant South? And what echoes of their songs come to me, And who is the gentle master of the homing birds? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN SAD SONNETS: 6. THE WANDERING ONE MAKES MUSIC by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS SONNET: TO L.T. IN FLORENCE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH AUGURY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN EVE'S SONG by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH THE EARL'S RETURN by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON EXTEMPORANEOUS EFFUSION by ROBERT BURNS A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 32 by THOMAS CAMPION TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. BELIEVE YOURSELF A WHOLE by EDWARD CARPENTER |