METHINKS that I could trip o'er heaviest soil, Light as a buoyant bark from wave to wave, Were mine the trusty staff that JEWEL gave To youthful HOOKER, in familiar style The gift exalting, and with playful smile: For thus equipped, and bearing on his head The Donor's farewell blessing, can he dread Tempest, or length of way, or weight of toil? -- More sweet than odours caught by him who sails Near spicy shores of Araby the blest, A thousand times more exquisitely sweet, The freight of holy feeling which we meet, In thoughtful moments, wafted by the gales From fields where good men walk, or bowers wherein they rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARE LIBERUM by HENRY VAN DYKE YARROW UNVISITED by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH SEVEN SAD SONNETS: 1. THE HAPPENING by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS TROPIC NIGHTFALL by ROBERT AVRETT EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 2. MUTUAL LOVE by PHILIP AYRES PORTRAIT BY PICHER by FRANCES BAKER |