Your eyes, dear one, as sunken gardens deep, Reflect the quiet of contentment drowsily stretched Upon the scene, as midnight on the waters lost in sleep, Presents the heavens in miniature perfectly sketched. None but the minds of kindred hearts may know That calm, or catch the rapture of the thrill Of souls who feel the soothing undertow Of life, when cups are drunken to their fill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SICK ROSE, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE LINES ON HEARING THE ORGAN by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY THE HOLY SCRIPTURES (1) by GEORGE HERBERT TO DAFFODILS by ROBERT HERRICK THE JEWISH CEMETERY AT NEWPORT by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO HELEN (1) by EDGAR ALLAN POE DECLASSE by ANNA EMILIA BAGSTAD TO MISS RIGBY, ON HER ATTENDANCE UPON HER MOTHER AT BUXTON by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |