SUBLIME the pleasure, meditating song, Lull'd by the piping of the winds to lie, While, ever and anon collecting, fly The choir still swelling as they haste along, And shake with full AEolian notes the sky. A pause ensues: the sprites, that lead the throng, Recall their force; and first, begin to sigh; Then howls the gathering stream the rocking domes among. Methinks I hear the shrieking spirits oft Groan in the blast, and flying tempests lead: While some aerial beings sighing soft Round once-loved maids their guardian wishes plead; Spirits of torment shrilly speak aloft, And warn the wretch, who rolls in guilt, to heed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HALF-WAKING by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM ASOLANDO: EPILOGUE by ROBERT BROWNING WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU by ROBERT BURNS THE FRIEND OF HUMANITY AND THE KNIFE-GRINDER by GEORGE CANNING SONG OF THE FATHERLAND by ERNST MORITZ ARNDT |