The river to the sea, In language of the land, Interpreter would be Of life beyond the strand; Of billowy heights that never fall When winds have gone their way; Of waving forests, dark and tall, Of flocks and herds and fertile vales, Of warbling birds and blossom-spray That scents the wandering gales. Alas! 'tis all a mystery! She does not understand. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OH! WEEP FOR THOSE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TO A MISTRESS DYING by WILLIAM DAVENANT A BOY'S MOTHER by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE IDLERS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN O MAY, THY MORN by ROBERT BURNS GLIMPSES OF ITALY: 2. THE CLOISTER GARDEN AT CERTOSA by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |