The lonely convent on the hill Draws merchants faring from the west; Almost upon the waters still The quiet clouds lean down and rest. In green pavilions of warm trees The golden builders toil and sing; While swallows dip along the leas, And dabble in the ooze of Spring. A thousand flowers, a thousand dreams, Bright pageants in confusion pass. See yonder, where the white horse gleams His fetlocks deep in pliant grass. Beside the eastern lake there calls No laughing throng, no lover goes; But in the long embankment walls The willow shade invites repose. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INCORRIGIBLE DIRIGIBLE by HAYDEN CARRUTH THEME IN YELLOW by CARL SANDBURG THE SEVEN AGAINST THEBES: CHORUS by AESCHYLUS INTROSPECTIVE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI UNDERWOODS: BOOK 1: 5. THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON SONNET TO LIBERTY by OSCAR WILDE THE DOUBLE STANDARD by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |