From haunt of man, from day's obtrusive glare, Thou shroud'st thee in the ruin's ivied tower, Or in some shadowy glen's romantic bower, Where wizard forms their mystic charms prepare, Where horror lurks, and ever-boding care! But, at the sweet and silent evening hour, When closed in sleep is every languid flower, Thou lov'st to sport upon the twilight air, Mocking the eye, that would thy course pursue, In many a wanton-round, elastic, gay, Thou flitt'st athwart the pensive wanderer's way, As his lone footsteps print the mountain-dew. From Indian isles thou com'st, with summer's car, Twilight thy love -- thy guide her beaming star! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SELF-DEPENDENCE by MATTHEW ARNOLD CARELESS CONTENT by JOHN BYROM THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 27 by OMAR KHAYYAM THE DEATH OF THE POOR by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE SHE SHALL NOT GUESS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |