THE blockheads, their holidays keeping, Are walking through forest and plain; They shout, and like kittens are leaping, And hail sweet Nature again. They gaze, with glances that glisten, On each romantic thing; With ears like asses they listen To hear the sparrows sing. My chamber window to darken, With black cloth I hang it by day; To the signal my spirits straight hearken, Day-visits they hasten to pay. My olden love also draws nigh me, From the realms of the dead she appears; She, weeping, sits gently close by me, And softens my bosom to tears. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMPRESSION by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE EPIGRAM: 59. ON SPIES by BEN JONSON WHO WALKS WITH BEAUTY by DAVID MORTON TO THE LADYBIRD by MOTHER GOOSE MONT BLANC; LINES WRITTEN IN THE VALE OF CHAMOUNI by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY AN EPILOGUE TO THE STEALING OF DIONYSOS: IACHOS SPEAKING by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |