BEAUTIFUL must be the mountains whence ye came, And bright in the fruitful valleys the streams, wherefrom Ye learn your song: Where are those starry woods? O might I wander there, Among the flowers, which in that heavenly air Bloom the year long! Nay, barren are those mountains and spent the streams: Our song is the voice of desire, that haunts our dreams, A throe of the heart, Whose pining visions dim, forbidden hopes profound, No dying cadence nor long sigh can sound, For all our art. Alone, aloud in the raptured ear of men We pour our dark nocturnal secret; and then, As night is withdrawn From these sweet-springing meads and bursting boughs of May, Dream, while the innumerable choir of day Welcome the dawn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BIRTHDAY POEM FOR THOMAS HARDY by CECIL DAY LEWIS LITTLE SON by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SHE WEEPS OVER RAHOON by JAMES JOYCE TO AN EARLY DAFFODIL; SONNET by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: BARNEY HAINSFEATHER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: WILLIAM JONES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |