There comes not through the o'erarching cloud of green A harsh, an envious sound to jar the ear: But vaguely swells a hum, now far, now near, Where the wild honey-bee beyond the screen Of beech-leaves haunts the field of flowering bean. Far, far away the low voice of the weir Dies into silence. Hush'd now is the clear Sweet song down-circling from the lark unseen. Beyond me, where I lie, the shrew-mice run A-patter where of late the streamlet's tones Made music: on a branch a drowsy bird Sways by the webs that midst dry pools are spun -- Yet lives the streamlet still, for o'er flat stones The slow lapse of the gradual wave is heard. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IF WE MUST DIE by CLAUDE MCKAY THE KING OF DENMARK'S RIDE by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON FOUR LITTLE FOXES by LEW SARETT IMITATIONS OF SHAKESPEARE by JOHN ARMSTRONG MEASUREMENTS by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON GOOD-BYE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |