Oh, there are days when I can fly Away from the lowland track, And turn deaf ears to the nudging noise Of the cares that would call me back. When joy gives wings to my eager feet, And wings to the words I sing, I am off to a place on the tip of a hill Where the clouds will be opening. And if I forget I am mortal and frail, I can reach and touch the sky: For the sky, though a keeper of mysteries, Can be friendly to such as I. And there, from that place on the windy hill, The unspoken seems quite plain: I'll read me a riddle -- and answer it, too, Before I go back again. And I'm wishing a wish that every day Might grant me the boon of wings: But then -- I'll rejoice if once in a moon My spirit soars upward, and sings! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CREDO by WILLIAM ARTHUR DUNKERLEY THE PARTING OF THE WAYS by JOSEPH BENSON GILDER TO THE PLIOCENE SKULL by FRANCIS BRET HARTE SONNET PREFIXED TO 'NENNIO, OR A TREATISE OF NOBILITY' by EDMUND SPENSER FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: SAD AND CHEERFUL SONGS by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES FRIENDSHIP by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER |