TWY-HORN Pan, the ridgy hills Walking and the maiden rills Leading in thy rocky haunt, Favour us the stony way Travelling, who have drunk to-day Of thine ever-springing fount. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMITATION OF POPE: A COMPLIMENT TO THE LADIES by WILLIAM BLAKE THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING LEISURE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES QUATRAIN: FATE by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE TRAGICAL HISTORY OF THE LIFE AND DEATH OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS by CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE WINTER: MY SECRET by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |