POET, thy strain, an Alpine cataract, leaps From so remote and superhuman steeps, It never finds the valley, but midway Hangs beautifully lost upon the day; In iridescence lost, in vapour spent, Yet made immortal in evanishment. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WHITE RABBIT by KAREN SWENSON TWO SONGS OF A FOOL: 1 by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS SONNET (ON AN OLD BOOK WITH UNCUT LEAVES) by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR ON CATULLUS by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR EXPLANATION by VIRGINIA A. ALLIN PERCH FISHING by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN MY ONLY TITLE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |