Couched on the turf, and lying mute and still, While the deep heaven lifts higher and more pure, I love to watch, as if some hidden lure It followed, one light cloud above the hill. The flitting film takes many an aspect strange: An orchard's snow; a far-off, sunlit sail; A fleck of foam; a seraph's floating veil. We see it altered, never see it change. Now a soft shred detaches, fades from sight; Another comes, melts, and the blue is clear And clearer, as when breath has dimmed the steel. Such is my changeful spirit, year by year: A sigh, the soul of such a cloud, as light And vanishing, lost in the infinite. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TIE-DOWN OF A BONSAI by MARVIN BELL CONTRA MORTEM: THE COMING OF SNOW by HAYDEN CARRUTH CONTRA MORTEM: THE VILLAGE by HAYDEN CARRUTH DAWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE YOUNG WARRIOR by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |