Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE ISLES; AN ODE, by CHARLES GEORGE DOUGLAS ROBERTS Poet's Biography First Line: Faithful reports of them have reached me oft! Last Line: Remembers not life's sword. Subject(s): Poetry & Poets | ||||||||
FAITHFUL reports of them have reached me oft! Many their embassage to mortal court, By golden pomp, and breathless-heard consort Of music soft, -- By fragrances accredited, and dreams. Many their speeding heralds, whose light feet Make pause at wayside brooks, and fords of streams, Leaving transfigured by an effluence fleet Those wayfarers they meet. No wind from out the solemn wells of night But hath its burden of strange messages, Tormenting for interpreter; nor less The wizard light That steals from noon-stilled waters, woven in shade, Beckons somewhither, with cool fingers slim. No dawn but hath some subtle word conveyed In rose ineffable at sunrise rim, Or charactery dim. One moment throbs the hearing, yearns the sight. But though not far, yet strangely hid, the way, And our sense slow; nor long for us delay The guides their flight! The breath goes by; the word, the light, elude; And we stay wondering. But there comes an hour Of fitness perfect and unfettered mood, When splits her husk the finer sense with power, And -- yon their palm-trees tower! Here Homer came, and Milton came, though blind. Omar's deep doubts still found them nigh and nigher, And learned them fashioned to the heart's desire. The supreme mind Of Shakespeare took their sovereignty, and smiled. Those passionate Israelitish lips that poured The Song of Songs attained them; and the wild Child-heart of Shelley, here from strife restored, Remembers not life's sword. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ENVY OF OTHER PEOPLE'S POEMS by ROBERT HASS THE NINETEENTH CENTURY AS A SONG by ROBERT HASS THE FATALIST: TIME IS FILLED by LYN HEJINIAN OXOTA: A SHORT RUSSIAN NOVEL: CHAPTER 192 by LYN HEJINIAN LET ME TELL YOU WHAT A POEM BRINGS by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA JUNE JOURNALS 6/25/88 by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA FOLLOW ROZEWICZ by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA HAVING INTENDED TO MERELY PICK ON AN OIL COMPANY, THE POEM GOES AWRY by HICOK. BOB BROOKLYN BRIDGE by CHARLES GEORGE DOUGLAS ROBERTS |
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