I rest me deep within the wood, Drawn by its silent call, Far from the throbbing crowd of men On nature's breast I fall. My couch is sweet with blossoms fair, A bed of fragrant dreams, And soft upon my ear there falls The lullaby of streams. The tumult of my heart is stilled, Within this sheltered spot, Deep in the bosom of the wood, Forgetting, and—forgot! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CAMPUS SONNET: TALK by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET A PORTRAIT OF MY ROOF by JAMES GALVIN FOR OUR BETTER GRACES by JAMES GALVIN REVIEW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON STREET-CRIES: 7. A SONG OF LOVE by SIDNEY LANIER ITALIAN PICTURES: JULY IN VALLOMBROSA by MINA LOY JOHN WILKES BOOTH AT THE FARM (JANUARY 12, 1848) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |