Why do I make no poems? Good my friend Now is there silence through the summer woods, In whose green depths and lawny solitudes The light is dreaming; voicings clear ascend Now from no hollow where glad rivulets wend, But murmurings low of inarticulate moods, Softer than stir of unfledged cushat broods, Breathe, till o'erdrowsed the heavy flower-heads bend. Now sleep the crystal and heart-charmèd waves Round white, sunstricken rocks the noontide long, Or 'mid the coolness of dim lighted caves Sway in a trance of vague deliciousness; And I,-I am too deep in joy's excess For the imperfect impulse of a song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SLEEPY HOLLOW by WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING (1817-1901) A RECEIPT FOR WRITING A NOVEL by MARY (CUMBERLAND) ALCOCK A CHILD'S GRAVE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A LUNCHEON (THOMAS HARDY ENTERTAINS THE PRINCE OF WALES) by HENRY MAXIMILIAN BEERBOHM TWO SONNETS: 1 by DAVID P. BERENBERG THE SILENCE OF UNLABOURED FIELDS by JOSEPH CAMPBELL DOVECOTT MILL: 6. THE SCHOOL by PHOEBE CARY |