BROAD, but not deep, along his rock-chafed bed In many a sparkling eddy winds the flood, Clasped by a margin of green underwood; A castled crag, with ivy garlanded, Sheer o'er the torrent frowns; above the mead De Burgho's towers, crumbling o'er many a rood, Stand gauntly out in airy solitude, Backed by yon furrowed mountain's tinted head. Sounds of far people, mingling with the fall Of waters, and the busy hum of bees, And larks in air, and throstles in the trees, Thrill the moist air with murmurs musical, While cottage smoke goes drifting on the breeze, And sunny clouds are floating over all. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RED COUNTRY by WILLIAM ROSE BENET FIVE LITTLE WANDERINGS: 2. CHILDHOOD by BERTON BRALEY GOLDFISH ON THE WRITING DESK by MAX BROD THE LADY TO HER GUITAR by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: KING SOLOMON by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON WIND OF THE SOUTH by JENNIE MCBRIDE BUTLER NOBIS NATUS IN PRETIUM: NOBIS DATUS IN PRAETIUM by PATRICK CAREY |