SOFT airs that fan the face Fraught with the wealth of Space, Lightly shed three-fold grace O'er fevered sense -- Faint music, subtle smell, Wafted wings, breathe a spell Each from rare joys that dwell In clime far hence. So from the languid Past Blows many a perfumed blast Too exquisite to last, All too divine: Could ye but linger, Earth Renewed in Heavenly birth Would smile in tearless mirth On hearts that pine! Echoes as yet unspent Of the tones softly blent, That once to being lent Virtue and charm! Whiffs of the scent that clings Round sweet half-faded things! How your wild magic brings Music and balm! Forms in their train who come Scarce lifeless, hardly dumb, Calm, smiling, tearful some! Be your wings furled! How can ye flit and toy, Thrill the lone heart with joy, Yet while with hope ye buoy, Turn from our world? Each breeze-borne butterfly Favours both earth and sky; Wild shore-birds flashing by Settle and spread: Alas! must ye alone On veering gale back flown Leave us forlorn to moan O'er brightness fled? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MAN'S VOCATION IS NOBODY'S BUSINESS by JAMES GALVIN HOPE (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: IPPOLIT KONOVALOFF by EDGAR LEE MASTERS YOU SAY YOU SAID by MARIANNE MOORE ACCOMPLISHED FACTS by CARL SANDBURG MANOKWARI, IRIAN JAYA; IN MEMORIAM, ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE by KAREN SWENSON |