My heart, when first the blackbird sings, My heart drinks in the song: Cool pleasure fills my bosom through And spreads each nerve along. My bosom eddies quietly, My heart is stirred and cool As when a wind-moved briar sweeps A stone into a pool. But unto thee, when thee I meet, My pulses thicken fast, As when the maddened lake grows black And ruffles in the blast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DYING WORDS OF STONEWALL JACKSON by SIDNEY LANIER PALINGENESIS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW EXHORTATION TO PRAYER by MARGARET MERCER THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 23 by OMAR KHAYYAM THE CHILD ALONE: 7. THE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON |