Peace hath an altar there. The sounding feet Of thunder and the 'wildering wings of rain Against fire-rifted summits flash and beat, And through grey upper gorges swoop and strain; But round that hallowed mountain-spring remain, Year after year, the days of tender heat, And gracious nights, whose lips with flowers are sweet, And filtered lights, and lutes of soft refrain. A still, bright pool. To men I may not tell The secret that its heart of water knows, The story of a loved and lost repose; Yet this I say to cliff and close-leaved dell: A fitful spirit haunts yon limpid well, Whose likeness is the faithless face of Rose. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ONE FAVORED ACORN by ROBERT FROST CONSECRATED GROUND; READ AT THE NEW YORK CITY HALL by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EDITH CONANT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. MERRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FLEMING HELPHENSTINE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |