The silvery dimness of a happy dream I've known of late. Methought where Byron moans, Like some wild gulf in melancholy zones, I passed tear-blinded. Once a lurid gleam Of stormy sunset loitered on the sea, While, travelling troubled like a straitened stream, The voice of Shelley died away from me. Still sore at heart, I reached a lake-lit lea. And then the green-mossed glades with many a grove, Where lies the calm which Wordsworth used to love, And, lastly, Locksley Hall, from whence did rise A haunting song that blew and breathed and blew With rare delights. 'Twas there I woke and knew The sumptuous comfort left in drowsy eyes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT THE BRITISH MUSEUM by RICHARD ALDINGTON CLEAR AND COLDER; BOSTON COMMON by ROBERT FROST PEACE (2) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FRAGMENT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SIMON SURNAMED PETER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THREE SPRING NOTATIONS ON BIPEDS by CARL SANDBURG |