HOW the pinks are breathing fragrance! How the thronging stars so tender, Golden bee like, sadly glimmer 'Mid the heaven's blue-violet splendour! Through the gloom of yonder chestnuts Gleams the manse, so white and stately, And I hear the glass door rattling While the dear voice thrills me greatly. Sweet alarm and blissful tremor, Soft embraces, terror-bringing -- And the youthful rose is list'ning, And the nightingales are singing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CAVALIER TUNES: MARCHING ALONG by ROBERT BROWNING THE MARIPOSA LILY by INA DONNA COOLBRITH AT THE GRAVE OF BURNS; SEVEN YEARS AFTER HIS DEATH by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THANKSGIVING DAY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH HYMN FOR ALL SAINTS DAY IN THE MORNING by HENRY ALFORD |