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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TRANSCIENCE, by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL Poem Explanation Poet's Biography First Line: Why does my fancy soon forsake Alternate Author Name(s): A. E. | |||
WHY does my fancy soon forsake All that is perfect to the eye, The ruffled silver of the lake, The silent silver of the sky, Its single star that is so shy, That trembles like a golden fawn Strayed from the blue and shadowy wood Of night upon the twilight lawn: Why is the heart so soon withdrawn? Even on earth's last lovely brood Of primroses it hardly dwells, Though myriads, a tender mist, Warm the pale green of chilly dells, The aftershine of amethyst, The glades of midnight overhead, Where browse the flocks the fawn has led, All glimmering, till they are laid Folden in light which is their shade Did ever earth from its first prime Move to a lovelier dance than this? But yet I cannot keep in chime. Swift as the whirling dervish is My heart floats on a swifter tide. As one upon a hurrying stream Sees towers and forests as in dream Drift by him upon either side, So do I see, and then I fly From these to that they prophesy. It is not that my heart is cold To beauty, for my pulses beat As bloom and odour jet their sweet From tiny fountains in the mould, And many rainbow trumpets blow; But still my heart divines from these How near are the Hesperides, How rich to have this overflow From sacred earth through common clay: And all my being yearns to run, To tread the meadows of the sun And bask in that enchanted day. The suns that rise, the suns that set, Time's tidal waves of blue and gold That roll from far ethereal seas, Hill-land and forest, starlit pool, Are images we soon forget, And swiftest when most beautiful. For when most beautiful we feel That there is something they reveal, Some lordlier being of their kind; And beauty only meaneth this And to the symbol we are blind The gifts that fortune brings, the kiss, The lovely life, the heart unveiled, Are images of heights unscaled. And we adore while to our thought Being with symbol seems enwrought, Yet if we would the rapture stay, The spirit is the open door Through which the prisoner steals away. Maybe there is a native shore For us, for it, where we may find A beauty stedfast to the mind, Joy that will not so lightly stray To join the maskers in the dance, Eternity with Time at play. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FROLIC by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL IMMORTALITY by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL RECONCILIATION by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL SACRIFICE by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL THE GIFT by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL A CALL by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL A FAREWELL by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL A HOLY HILL by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL A LAST COUNSEL by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL A LEADER by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL |
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