An image of Lethe, and the fields Full of faint light but golden, Gray cliffs, and beneath them A sea Harsher than granite, unstill, never ceasing; High forms with the movement of gods, Perilous aspect; And one said: "This is Actaeon." Actaeon of golden greaves! Over fair meadows, Over the cool face of that field, Unstill, ever moving Hosts of an ancient people, The silent cortege. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 38 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE VOLUNTEER by ELBRIDGE JEFFERSON CUTLER THE HILL WIFE: THE IMPULSE by ROBERT FROST THE HOUSE-TOP; A NIGHT PIECE by HERMAN MELVILLE THE WIDOW; SAPPHICS by ROBERT SOUTHEY TO THINK OF TIME by WALT WHITMAN CASTOR AND POLYDEUCES by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE |