I'LL rest me in this sheltered bower, And look upon the clear blue sky That smiles upon me through the trees, Which stand so thickly clustering by; And view their green and glossy leaves, All glistening in the sunshine fair; And list the rustling of their boughs, So softly whispering through the air. And while my ear drinks in the sound, My winged soul shall fly away; Reviewing long departed years As one mild, beaming, autumn day; And soaring on to future scenes, Like hills and woods, and valleys green, All basking in the summer's sun, But distant still, and dimly seen. Oh, list! 'tis summer's very breath That gently shakes the rustling trees -- But look! the snow is on the ground -- How can I think of scenes like these? 'Tis but the frost that clears the air, And gives the sky that lovely blue; They're smiling in a winter's sun, Those evergreens of sombre hue. And winter's chill is on my heart -- How can I dream of future bliss? How can my spirit soar away, Confined by such a chain as this? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FACADE: 24. AN OLD WOMAN LAMENTS IN SPRINGTIME by EDITH SITWELL ARCTURUS IN AUTUMN by SARA TEASDALE MUSIC AND MEMORY by JOHN ALBEE MERCILES BEAUTE; A TRIPLE ROUNDEL: 1. CAPTIVITY by GEOFFREY CHAUCER THE MASTER-PLAYER by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE COMING OF SPRING by NORA PERRY ON A LADY WHO FANCIED HERSELF A BEAUTY by CHARLES SACKVILLE (1637-1706) |