The poet roams at will where heartsease grows; He dwells in haunts of beauty all his days; The joy of love in all its moods he knows; His heart responds to all of nature's ways. He speaks for men the words they could not find; He feels the grief of all who see death's face; He only has the mother's joy divined, Sorrow of lovers in a last embrace. Dream-emperor in a world of dreams avowed; A welcome guest wherever fairies be; His heart goes sailing on a summer cloud, And wears a mantle of white ecstasy. If poets had no other meed but this, On them has been bestowed Apollo's kiss. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TYRANNICK [TYRANNIC] LOVE: EPILOGUE by JOHN DRYDEN THE HOLLY TREE by ROBERT SOUTHEY UNDERWOODS: BOOK 1: 38 by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THIS COMPOST: 2. by WALT WHITMAN THE BUS by MABEL WARREN ARNOLD COLORED HEROES, HARK THE BUGLE; POLITICAL by ROBERT CHARLES O'HARA BENJAMIN A DAY REMORSEFUL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |