As I was climbing Ardan Mor From the shore of Sheelan lake, I met the herons coming down Before the water's wake. And they were talking in their flight Of dreamy ways the herons go When all the hills are withered up Nor any waters flow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE KING'S THRESHOLD by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE WORLD-SOUL by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE COUNTRY FAITH by NORMAN ROWLAND GALE WHERE SHALL THE BABY'S DIMPLE BE? by JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND A DESCRIPTION OF THE MORNING by JONATHAN SWIFT TO GEORGE CRUIKSHANK, ESQ., ON SEEING HIS PICTURE ... by MATTHEW ARNOLD POLAND by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |