INDEED I have sought thee too long, O Apollo, Nights and days, by brakes and bowers, By wind-haunted waters, by wolf-haunted hollow, And where the city smoke-cloud lowers; And I have listened hours on hours Where the holy Omphe of violins The organ oracle overpowers, While the musical tumult thickens and thins, Till the singing women begin to sing, Invoking as I do their Master and King; But thou tarriest long, O Apollo! Could I find but thy footprints, oh, there would I follow. Thou God of wanderers show the way! But never I found thee as yet, my Apollo, Save indeed in a dream one day. (If that or this be the dream, who shall say?) A man passed playing a quaint sweet lyre, His face was young though his hair was grey, And his blue eyes gleamed with a wasting fire As he sang the songs of an ancient land -- A singing no hearer could half understand.... Can this have been Thou, my Apollo? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BEAST OF BURDEN by MARIANNE MOORE BEFORE A STATUE OF ACHILLES by GEORGE SANTAYANA TO PFRIMMER (LINES ON READING 'DRIFTWOOD') by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE VANISHING BOAT by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE YOU ON THE TOWER by THOMAS HARDY |