WHAT is it that he sings to thee, What breath of heaven, wild and free, Like wind across the corded sails? What shining of the Grecian sun? What gleaming hills and glowing vales?— 'O my Eurydice, O my beloved one!' What is it draws thee to that voice? Can still the buried dead rejoice And gladness stir the pallid throng? Art thou still pining for the sun, And canst thou hear it in his song?— 'O my Eurydice, O my beloved one!' O sad, O sad Eurydice, The fields of day are lost to thee, And all the woods, and all the streams; Thou never shalt behold the sun, Thou art but shadow, pale with dreams.— O poor Eurydice, O my beloved one! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COSMOPOLITE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE WORLD by FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 4. THE MOON'S ORCHESTRA by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER TO THE BELOVED by ALICE MEYNELL THE CAP AND BELLS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE WORLD'S TRIUMPHS by MATTHEW ARNOLD |