His was a chamber in the topmost tower - A small unsightly cell with grated bars; And wearily went on each irksome hour Of dim captivity and moody cares; Against such visitants he was not strong, But sat with laden heart and brow of woe; And every morn he heard the stir and song Of birds in royal gardens far below, Telling of bowers and dewy lawns unseen, Drench'd with the silver steam that night had shed; Part blossom-white, part exquisitely green, By little warblers roam'd and tenanted, Blending their glad wild notes to greet the sheen Of the May Dawn, that gleam'd upon his bed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OFFERING by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE HARD TIMES IN ELFLAND; A STORY OF CHRISTMAS EVE by SIDNEY LANIER DOMESDAY BOOK: LOVERIDGE CHASE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS MENAPHON: SEPHESTIA'S [CRADLE] SONG TO HER CHILD by ROBERT GREENE THE MOTHER IN THE HOUSE by HERMANN HAGEDORN THE BELLS AT MIDNIGHT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): AMOR OMNIPOTENS by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS |