WHEN o'er the mountain steeps The hazy noontide creeps, And the shrill cricket sleeps Under the grass; When soft the shadows lie, And clouds sail o'er the sky, And the idle winds go by, With the heavy scent of blossoms as they pass,— Then, when the silent stream Lapses as in a dream, And the water-lilies gleam Up to the sun; When the hot and burdened day Rests on its downward way, When the moth forgets to play, And the plodding ant may dream her work is done,— Then, from the noise of war And the din of earth afar, Like some forgotten star Dropt from the sky,— The sounds of love and fear, All voices sad and clear, Banished to silence drear,— The willing thrall of trances sweet I lie. Some melancholy gale Breathes its mysterious tale, Till the rose's lips grow pale With her sighs; And o'er my thoughts are cast Tints of the vanished past, Glories that faded fast, Renewed to splendor in my dreaming eyes. As poised on vibrant wings, Where its sweet treasure swings, The honey-lover clings To the red flowers,— So, lost in vivid light, So, rapt from day and night, I linger in delight, Enraptured o'er the vision-freighted hours. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ONE WHITE ROSE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE SMUGGLER'S LEAP; A LEGEND OF THANET by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM PSALM 139 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE IS IT AMAVI OR IS IT AMO? by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN KING HERMANDIAZ by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON WIND IN THE CYPRESS by MARY BEALE CARR |