I KNOW @3a place where every wind Moves softly as a sigh, Where rivers turn their murmurings Into a lullaby, And fluted songs like silver clouds Drift slowly, sweetly by— Where nightingales have bushed their notes To listen breathlessly.@1 I When, like a lantern, glows the moon Upon night's high roof-tree, When dusk has closed the eyes of June And sleep is on the bee: If you go gently through the dell And hide in dewy grass— May be you'll hear the fairy-bell And see the fairies pass. II They come on music light as air To revel in the glade, And hedgerows bend their blossoms there To hear the serenade: The night is full of hidden things And leaves are dimly stirred By silken whispers like soft wings, Like heart-beats of a bird. III You wonder how the violet grows, How blooms the daffodil, These secret things the mavis knows And tells the dawn—a-thrill: They grow beneath the magic spell Of folk in green and brown Who dance around a golden bell With songs like thistledown. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FLAME LIGHTS UP by DAVID IGNATOW RECOMPENSE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BALLROOM DARK by CLARENCE MAJOR SLEEPING TOGETHER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE AWAKENING RIVER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD CANTICLE OF THE RACE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |