Hear I the mourning-dove, As now the swallow floats Low o'er the shadowed oats? Soft as the voice of love, Hear I her slow and supplicating notes? O fugitive! O lone! O burden pure and strong That summer noons prolong! O link in music shown Between the silence and an angel's song! The dulcimer and lute Hoard not so swoonless woe. What grief of long ago Would now thy tones transmute To what we sought afar and could not know? Thy yearnings yet elude Our quest and scrutiny, Tho mortals echo thee Thy moan in solitude For dreams that are not nor shall ever be. So broken waters hold A voice to sorrow set— A world's foreknown regret, Immutable, untold. So seas remember, tho our souls forget. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TRIUMPHS OF OWEN: A FRAGMENT by THOMAS GRAY EPITAPH ON THOMAS CLERE, SURREY'S FAITHFUL FRIEND AND FOLLOWER by HENRY HOWARD ENDYMION by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO THE UNIMPLORED BELOVED by EDWARD SHANKS A CURE FOR POETRY by ANNABELLA (GUISE) BLOUNT SANDY STAR: 5. ONUS PROBANDI by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE TO A.D. UNREASONABLE DISTRUSTFUL OF HER OWN BEAUTY by THOMAS CAREW |