LEAN close and set thine ear against the bark; Then tell me what faint, murmurous sounds are heard: Hath not the oak stored up the song of bird, Whisper of wind and rain-lisp? Ay, and hark! The shadowy elves that fret the summer dark, With clash of horny winglets swiftly whirred, Hear'st thou not them, with myriad noises, blurred, Yet well defined if one but shrewdly mark? And thou, -- when thy Familiar setteth ear Unto thy bosom, doth he note the same Sweet concord of harmonious sounds within? Or is all hushed in hollow silence drear? An 't be, pray Heaven to save thee from thy shame Ere thy whole soul be slain by cankerous sin. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AUTUMN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE EXPANDED COMPOSITION by CLARENCE MAJOR DOMESDAY BOOK: ELENOR MURRAY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DIPPOLD THE OPTICIAN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: GODWIN JAMES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |