Hear, my beloved, an old Milesian story! -- High, and embosom'd in congregated laurels, Glimmer'd a temple upon a breezy headland; In the dim distance amid the skiey billows Rose a fair island; the god of flocks had blest it. From the far shores of the bleat-resounding island Oft by the moonlight a little boat came floating, Came to the sea-cave beneath the breezy headland, Where amid myrtles a pathway stole in mazes Up to the groves of the high embosom'd temple. There in a thicket of dedicated roses, Oft did a priestess, as lovely as a vision, Pouring her soul to the son of Cytherea, Pray him to hover around the slight canoe-boat, And with invisible pilotage to guide it Over the dusk wave, until the nightly sailor Shivering with ecstasy sank upon her bosom. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BLACK EAGLE RETURNS TO ST. JOE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS EPITHALAMION MADE AT LINCOLNES INNE by JOHN DONNE CHAUCER; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW REQUIEM FOR ONE SLAIN IN BATTLE by GEORGE LUNT THE WELCOME TO ALEXANDRA by ALFRED TENNYSON THE GIANTESS by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE DAUGHTER by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS |