WATER in hidden glens From the secret heart of the mountains, Where the red fox hath its dens And the gods their crystal fountains; Up runnel and leaping cataract, Boulder and ledge, I climbed and tracked, Till I came to the top of the world and the fen That drinks up the clouds and cisterns the rain, And down through the floors of the deep morass The procreant woodland essences drain -- The thunder's home, where the eagles scream And the centaurs pass; But, where it was born, I lost my stream. 'Twas in vain I said: "'Tis here it springs, Though no more it leaps and no more it sings;" And I thought of a poet whose songs I knew Of morning made and shining dew -- I remembered the mire of the marshes too. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON FIRST ENTERING WESTMINSTER ABBEY by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY AT LULWORTH COVE A CENTURY BACK by THOMAS HARDY DREAMS OLD AND NASCENT: NASCENT by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE PALINGENESIS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW AN EGYPTIAN PULLED GLASS BOTTLE IN THE SHAPE OF A FISH by MARIANNE MOORE EPIGRAM: PERJURY by ROBERT NUGENT |