NIGHT long I sigh, and soon as comes the day To grant me rest a little, in mine ears The swallows' twittering sounds, and hunts away Sweet sleep and drives me back again to tears: Tight-shut I keep my eyes, and yet the thought Of dear Rhodanthe haunts my heart once more. Peace, peace, ye jealous prattlers! it was not My hand the tongue of Philomela shore; Wail o'er the hills for Itylus, or from The hoopoe's craggy nest cry your alarms; So may I drowse awhile: maybe will come A dream and fold me in Rhodanthe's arms. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A LITTLE INVISIBLE BEING WHO IS EXPECTED SOON TO BECOME VISIBLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE MENTAL TRAVELLER by WILLIAM BLAKE RIDDLE ON THE LETTER H (1) by CATHERINE MARIA FANSHAWE THE CONTRETEMPS by THOMAS HARDY MISS KILMANSEGG AND HER PRECIOUS LEG: HER MORAL by THOMAS HOOD SONNET: 16. TO THE LORD GENERAL CROMWELL, MAY 1652 by JOHN MILTON AFTERMATH by SIEGFRIED SASSOON SONGS OF NIGHT TO MORNING: 2. AND YET by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |