I know a green grass path that leaves the field And, like a running river, winds along Into a leafy wood, where is no throng Of birds at noon-day; and no soft throats yield Their music to the moon. The place is sealed, An unclaimed sovereignty of voiceless song, And all the unravished silences belong To some sweet singer lost, or unrevealed. So is my soul become a silent place.... Oh, may I wake from this uneasy night To find some voice of music manifold. Let it be shape of sorrow with wan face Or love that swoons on sleep, or else delight That is as wide-eyed as a marigold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINES WRITTEN AT THE GRAVE OF ALEXANDER DUMAS by GWENDOLYN B. BENNETT DREAMS (2) by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE OLD MAN DREAMS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW REUBEN BRIGHT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |