WHERE pollen drifts are softly blown From yellow fringed acacia down, Prone I lie, on pulsing ground. The eternal cadence of beating seas, Is echoed near in bee-rhymed trees Whose waving boughs sweep the curving blue. Nodding faces of buttercups shine, And I lie warm in budding grain. Carpets of copper and golden light, Myriad candles of balsam pine, Broad ocean and roving clouds: All I see, high and wide—is mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT SAGAMORE HILL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMESDAY BOOK: HENRY BAKER, AT NEW YORK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE ANGELUS; HEARD AT THE MISSION DOLORES IN SAN FRANCISCO, 1868 by FRANCIS BRET HARTE A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 1. 1887 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN HESPERUS THE BRINGER by SAPPHO THE TENT ON THE BEACH: 5. THE CHANGELING by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |