THERE is soft, purple charm to the night And gold on the garb of the day, There are castles all ivory white, And strange, fairy children at play, There are mountains that loom great and grand, Far glimpses of seas shining bright, And blossom-blown fields in the land, The fanciful land of delight. There the zephyr eternally blows Through the valleys and gardens in glee; Down the meadows a great river flows Past the flowering fields to the sea; In my barque on this mystical stream, Unrestrained in my moods, fancy-free, I drift down the river, — and dream Of the world and eternity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S HOMER by JOHN KEATS LUCASIA, ROSANIA, AND ORINDA PARTING AT A FOUNTAIN by KATHERINE PHILIPS ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 14. TO THE HON. CHARLES TOWNSHEND - FROM THE COUNTRY by MARK AKENSIDE ASPIRATIONS: 6 by MATHILDE BLIND TO ROBERT BURNS; AN EPISTLE ON INSTINCT by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES LEARNING TO PLAY by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |