In glades where frost is ambushed in the ferns, In the low meadow dipping to the stream, A luring light and subtle beauty burns, And now I see and now have lost the gleam; The water sings, its crystal body curls With welling music round the root and stone, But a voice haunts there, clear above the swirls, And now I catch and now I miss that tone. Spring, light of light; stay not so shyly far, Maybe a dream, maybe a living truth; Voice that was there, attend that sudden star, And in one fountain song say you are youth, Or love, or some resemblance -- Ah, that prayer, Answered, would leave but wood and water there. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER DEATH by FRANCES ISABEL PARNELL THE BIRDS: THE BUILDING OF CLOUDCUCKOOCITY by ARISTOPHANES TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH; ON THE PUBLICATION OF HIS POEM, 'PETER BELL' by BERNARD BARTON LA BEAUTE by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE COMPANIONSHIP AT NIGHT by AGNES STEWART BECK THE BATTLE OF THE FLOWERS by MATHILDE BLIND INCLUSIONS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |