The blooming hedge, the budding grove, Resound with notes of joy and love; The gleaming bush, the glimm'ring tree, Live with a dewy melody. Along the meadows, flashing bright, Run trills of shrill and sweet delight; E'en the small snowy clouds among, Gush showers on showers of silver song. But thou, my heart, oh, tell me why Hast thou no language but a sigh? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE THAWING WIND by ROBERT FROST ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 83 by PHILIP SIDNEY THE COMMONPLACE by WALT WHITMAN THE FABRIC by GAMALIEL BRADFORD IN THE FOURTH WATCH by MYRON HENRY BROOMWELL ONLY A CURL by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING AS SEEN FROM MY WINDOWS by ELLIE WILCOX BURT |