WHAT wind from what celestial wood hath sown Such delicate seed as springs in air, and turns The blue heaven-garden to a bed of ferns In feathery cloud? They are not tossed, or blown To such wild shapes, but motionless they ride, Like a celestial frost-work on the pane Of our sky-window, where the breath has lain Of the pure cold upon the thither side. They are but pencil touches, soft and light, Traced faintly under some magnetic spell By an entranced spirit, that would write Hints of heaven-language ere the soul's release, -- Dim outlines of the syllables that tell Of words like faith, and confidence, and peace. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ALPINE PICTURE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH W'EN I GITS HOME by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR WREATHE THE BOWL by THOMAS MOORE STONEWALL JACKSON'S WAY by JOHN WILLIAMSON PALMER CHOICE OF EXIT by WILLIAM ROSE BENET LOVE AND LANGUAGE by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |