'Tis morn on Kiyomidzu's height, Where once the Taiko planned his war, And from a book of Buddhist lore I hear the holy priest recite. Below I see the river lave That city's feet he loves so well; And o'er my spirit comes a spell Like that the fabled lotus gave. Rest -- rest -- here will I rest. What good To climb, for aye, the rolling wave, Like Greek Ulysses, till the grave Descends upon the weary blood? O rather, on this mountain side, With some kind spirit would I dwell Till over me the temple bell Sounds requiem at life's eventide! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE WHEEL OF BEING II by HAYDEN CARRUTH A PORTRAIT OF MY ROOF by JAMES GALVIN THE IMPORTANCE OF GREEN by JAMES GALVIN SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. CHARLES BLISS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS VILLANELLE OF CHANGE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |