WHAT lovelier home could gentle Fancy choose? Is this the stream, whose cities, heights, and plains, War's favourite playground, are with crimson stains Familiar, as the Morn with pearly dews? The Morn, that now, along the silver MEUSE, Spreading her peaceful ensigns, calls the swains To tend their silent boats and ringing wains, Or strip the bough whose mellow fruit bestrews The ripening corn beneath it. As mine eyes Turn from the fortified and threatening hill, How sweet the prospect of yon watery glade, With its grey rocks clustering in pensive shade -- That, shaped like old monastic turrets, rise From the smooth meadow-ground, serene and still! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SLUG IN WOODS by EARL (EARLE) BIRNEY CORN-LAW HYMN by EBENEZER ELLIOTT THE COMING OF THE SNOW by MARION L. BERTRAND A SONG OF CONTRDICTIONS by SAMUEL LAMAN BLANCHARD IN A VISION OF THE NIGHT by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH THE DESERT by MAXWELL STRUTHERS BURT TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. WHEN I AM NEAR TO YOU by EDWARD CARPENTER |