I do not fear my thoughts will die, For never yet it was so dry As to scorch the azure of the sky. It knows no withering and no drought, Though all eyes crop, it ne'er gives out. My eyes my flocks are; Mountains my crops are. I do not fear my flocks will stray, For they were made to roam the day, For they can wander with the latest light, Yet be at home at night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MARRIAGE OF HEAVEN AND HELL by WILLIAM BLAKE HIRAM POWERS' GREEK SLAVE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING A GRAMMARIAN'S FUNERAL by ROBERT BROWNING WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU by ROBERT BURNS VENICE; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW EVIL EASIER THAN GOOD by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SONNET by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS |