HOW often has he lingered here alone In such a golden evensong of spring, Making the eye-sweet melody of stone More lovely by his words' accompanying -- Singing for very youth of heart, compelled By the keen urge of beauty, even as now Tweed sings along the valley, April-swelled, While the green slopes flush slowly to the plow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: SERENADE by EDITH SITWELL THE TRAGEDY OF VALENTINIAN: SPRING by JOHN FLETCHER THE PROGRESS OF POESY; A PINDARIC ODE by THOMAS GRAY VAN ELSEN by FREDERICK GEORGE SCOTT A ROCKING HYMN by GEORGE WITHER THE LAMENTATION OF THE OLD PENSIONER (1) by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |