WE TRAVELLED through the soundless night And breathed the fragrant June, Tumultuous fragrance, flooded bright With an unwaning moon; Till from the whitened field the wood Rose dark along the hill,— And then with sudden joy we stood To hear thee, whip-poor-will! O Bird, O Wonder! Long and high Thy measured question calls! I marvel, till thy perfect cry Almost too perfect falls. What art thou singing, voice divine, Heart of the poignant night? What utter loveliness is thine Of suffering or delight? Delight too lovely, all but pain, Would thy frail spirit pour? Would sorrow, in thy perfect strain, Be joy forevermore? Thou hadst no answer but thy song— Clear as the soft June light, Sweet as the fragrant earth, and long As that immortal night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT APRIL by ANGELINA WELD GRIMKE TO HIS MISTRESS OBJECTING TO HIM NEITHER TOYING OR TALKING by ROBERT HERRICK SONNET: 148 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE TO THE RIGHT HON! WILLIAM EARL OF DARTMOUTH by PHILLIS WHEATLEY EMERSON by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT |