Be these the burden of our runes: Sheer artistry of prairie moons. The fabled Fleece, in golden grain; Staccato music, made of rain. The blithesome gurgle of the rills That slip between the sunlit hills, Where songsters on frail sapplings swing To vocalize the Ides of Spring. Warm, wooing sun, and cleansing wind— Tried therapeutics of the mind. The moving curtain of the rains That, bit by bit, obscures the plains Where grateful grasses sweetly raise Their mute encomiums of praise .... All Nature's store-house greets our needs, When we essay our winged steeds. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO SIMPLICITY by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) THE INVITATION by GEORGE HERBERT THE DAUGHTER OF MENDOZA by MIRABEAU BONAPARTE LAMAR HOW THE CUMBERLAND WENT DOWN [MARCH 8, 1862] by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL THE SEA by BRYAN WALLER PROCTER IN SCHOOL-DAYS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER A COAT by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |