LESS because Petrarch and his Muse have made These hills and streams immortal as his fame, Linked in melodious verse with Laura's name, Than for thy sake, O Nature! have I strayed To this wild region. In the rocky glade, Deep at the mountain's base, the fountains keep Their ceaseless gushing, till the waters leap A mighty torrent from the endless shade; A moment linger there in glassy rest, Break on the craggy steep with foaming crest, Then thunder through the chasm, swift and strong! So burst the Poet's passion from his breast, Noiseless and deep and pure, to flood erelong The listening tracts of Time with ceaseless tides of song! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPH (ON A COMMONPLACE PERSON WHO DIED IN BED) by AMY LEVY SARAH THREENEEDLES (BOSTON, 1698) by KATHARINE LEE BATES DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: ISBRAND by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES A WATERPIECE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: HONOUR DISHONOURED by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 43. FAREWELL TO JULIET (5) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |