WE TRAVELLED through the soundless night And breathed the fragrant June, Tumultuous fragrance, flooded bright With an unwaning moon; Till from the whitened field the wood Rose dark along the hill,— And then with sudden joy we stood To hear thee, whip-poor-will! O Bird, O Wonder! Long and high Thy measured question calls! I marvel, till thy perfect cry Almost too perfect falls. What art thou singing, voice divine, Heart of the poignant night? What utter loveliness is thine Of suffering or delight? Delight too lovely, all but pain, Would thy frail spirit pour? Would sorrow, in thy perfect strain, Be joy forevermore? Thou hadst no answer but thy song— Clear as the soft June light, Sweet as the fragrant earth, and long As that immortal night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUFFERED UNDER PONTIUS PILATE, WAS CRUCIFIED, DEAD, AND BURIED by CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER THE YEAR OF JUBILEE by HENRY CLAY WORK THE HARES; A FABLE by JAMES BEATTIE GREEN LEAVES AND SERE by MATHILDE BLIND REPUBLIC TO REPUBLIC, 1776-1917 by WITTER BYNNER VERMONT CHEESEMAKING by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY |