As one that for a weary space has lain Lulled by the song of Circe and her wine In gardens near the pale of Proserpine, Where that AEaean Isle forgets the Main, And only the low lutes of love complain, And only shadows of wan lovers pine; As such an one were glad to know the brine Salt on his lips, and the large air again,-- So, gladly from the songs of modern speech Men turn, and see the stars, and feel the free Shrill wind beyond the close of heavy flowers; And through the music of the languid hours, They hear like ocean on a western beach The surge and thunder of the Odyssey. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GUILIELMUS REX by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH TO MUSIC [TO BECALM HIS FEVER] by ROBERT HERRICK THE WOLF AND THE DOG by JEAN DE LA FONTAINE A SPINNING SONG by JOHN FRANCIS O'DONNELL TO MY FRIEND MR. THOMAS FLATMAN, ON THE PUBLISHING OF THESE HIS POEMS by FRANCIS BARNARD (D. 1698) NIGHT AFTER NIGHT by GERTRUDE BLOEDE |