'Tis not my voice now speaks; but as a bird In darkling forest hollows a sweet throat -- Pleads on till distant echo too hath heard And doubles every note: So love that shrouded dwells in mystery Would cry and waken thee. Thou Solitary, stir in thy still sleep! All the night waits thee, must thou still dream on? Furtive the shadows that about thee creep, And cheat the shining footsteps of the moon: Unseal thine eyes, it is my heart that sings, And beats in vain its wings. Lost in heaven's vague, the stars burn softly through The world's dark latticings, we prisoned stray Within its lovely labyrinth, and know Mute seraphs guard the way Even from silence unto speech, from love To that self's self it still is dreaming of. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEATH OF LEONIDAS by GEORGE CROLY MORAL ESSAYS: EPISTLE 4. TO RICHARD BOYLE, EARL BURLINGTON by ALEXANDER POPE POLLY by WILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS COURAGE THAT OVERCOMES by MARGARETE ROSE AKIN SONNET TO THE HUNGARIAN NATION by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE WILD GEESE by MICHAEL JOSEPH BARRY ON THE DEATH OF COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 44 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |