This is a joy no laughter shakes, Nor shall my body rock; It hears the Cuckoo's voice in Spring, And sends no echoes back. When Music plays, it claps no hands, To twirl on nimble toes; It sits as quiet as a bird, With all its young up close. It is a joy that reconciles The smallest with the greatest; From what I was, and am, until Life's sweetest breath comes, latest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHAT I LIVE FOR by GEORGE LINNAEUS BANKS AN INVITE TO ETERNITY by JOHN CLARE FATHER LAND AND MOTHER TONGUE by SAMUEL LOVER TAMERLANE (4) by EDGAR ALLAN POE A DESCRIPTION OF THE MORNING by JONATHAN SWIFT THE CLOAK, THE BOAT, AND THE SHOES by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE GOOD OLD DAYS OF 27 B.C. by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS DEATH AND THE LADY; THEIR BARGAIN TOLD AGAIN by LEONIE ADAMS |