Full often as I rove by path or stile, To watch the harvest ripening in the vale, Slowly and sweetly, like a growing smile -- A smile that ends in laughter -- the quick gale Upon the breadths of gold-green wheat descends; While still the swallow, with unbaffled grace, About his viewless quarry dips and bends -- And all the fine excitement of the chase Lies in the hunter's beauty: in the eclipse Of that brief shadow, how the barley's beard Tilts at the passing gloom, and wild-rose dips Among the white-tops in the ditches reared: And hedgerows; flowery breast of lacework stirs Faintly in that full wind that rocks the outstanding firs. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I AM THE WAY' by ALICE MEYNELL THE INGOLDSBY PENANCE!; A LEGEND OF PALESTINE AND -- WEST KENT by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 6. LOVE'S DESPAIR by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE LAST MAN: SWEET TO DIE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES ADONIS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT ON THE LATE CAPT. GROSE'S PEREGRINATIONS THRO' SCOTLAND by ROBERT BURNS COLUMBUS by FLORENCE EARLE COATES INDIAN-PIPE by FLORENCE EARLE COATES FOUR METRICAL EXPERIMENTS: 2. TROCHAICS by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |