Sometimes I've dreamed the cricket told me true; I've longed for freedom and the pleasing view Of moss-grown hummocks and great whispering trees, With gold-winged songsters humming in the breeze. The dream is over—I have lived my day Nourished in sun with other violets gay; And now I'm borne afar to Paradise, To find my haven in your gentle eyes. If I may touch your lips I'll die content Without one glimpse of freedom or days spent In woodland dells; oh, murmur, while I fade, Your own sweet mem'ries of the forest glade! Come, tell me quickly, for my brief hours pass; What! You too captive in a house of glass? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: DANTE (1) by MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI THE SORROWS OF WERTHER by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY THE AFTER WOMAN by FRANCIS THOMPSON MANHATTAN ARMING by WALT WHITMAN SUNSET ON THE ORANGE MOUNTAINS by ADRIAN BERKOWITZ |