YE have seen me in the skies, Yet beneath the ground I rise; Sometimes far above your head, Sometimes deep below your tread. Where the forest boughs entwine, Baffling still the gay sunshine; Gaze aloft, and you will see In myself their tracery. Laughing eye and dimpling smile May be even me awhile; Playful words, like javelins thrown, As myself you often own. Many a sunny stream ye trace, Rippling in my calm embrace; Still I watch the secret shrine Of the rich and ruddy wine. Nave, and choir, and aisle, I trow, All to me their glories owe; Even a seraph form by me, Greater, fairer yet may be. Many a loved one may be laid In my sadly solemn shade; On your brow I now may dwell, While your lips my name will tell. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE DEATH OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN by PHILIP FRENEAU THE NINETEENTH OF APRIL, 1861 by LUCY LARCOM A STREET SKETCH by JOSEPH ASHBY-STERRY A SPIRITUAL LEGEND by PHILIP JAMES BAILEY TO LORD BYRON by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE GOLDEN ODES OF PRE-ISLAMIC ARABIA: IBN KOLTHUM by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A LETTER, ON HIS DEPARTURE FORM LONDON; TO R.L., ESQ. by JOHN BYROM |