These woods are never silent. In the hush Of the high places, solemnly there goes In endless undertone the stately rush Of musicwindy melody that grows And ebbs and changes in uncertain time As if some pensive god tried here apart Vague snatches of the harmonies divine Before he played them on the human heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FALLEN STAR by GEORGE DARLEY THE YOUNG GLASS-STAINER by THOMAS HARDY A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG NYMPH GOING TO BED by JONATHAN SWIFT BEFORE PARTING by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |