There is a place I know, A plot of turfy ground, Where amber waters flow With an ebullient sound; And yet despite their noise That never seems to cease, It is a place of joys, It is a place of peace. The air is clear and thin; It has the tang of wine; The sunlight filters in Through braided boughs of pine. A casual dragon-fly Will tilt then disappear; A butterfly flit by And dart and dip and veer. And there are banks above, With copses either side, Where mating birds make love From dawn to even-tide; Outstretched upon the moss In this dear place I know, I watch them flit across, The wren and vireo. When I would flee the rout Of cares that will intrude, Then I alone seek out This sylvan solitude; Therein I may divest My soul of sordid schemes; It is a place of rest; It is a place of dreams. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL HESTER PRYNNE? by KAREN SWENSON LIBERTY FOR ALL by WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON THE THREE KINGS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW PUCK AND THE FAIRY, FR. A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE JUST A-RIDIN'! by ELWOOD ADAMS |