Through vales of Thrace, Peneus' stream is flowing Past legend-peopled hillsides to the deep; From Paestum's rose-hung plains soft winds are blowing; The halls of Amber lie in haunted sleep; The Cornish sea is silent with the Summer That once bore Iseult from the Irish shore; And lovely lone Fiesole is dumber Than when Lorenzo's garland-guests it wore. This eve for us the emerald clearness glowing Over the stream, where late was ruddy might, Whispers a wonder, dumb to other knowing, — Known but to you, the silence, and the night. Our boat drifts breathless; the last light is dying; Stars, dawn, shall find us here together lying. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARTING AT MORNING by ROBERT BROWNING SONNETS ON PICTURES: MARY MAGDALEN AT THE DOOR OF SIMON THE PHARISEE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI SILEX SCINTIALLANS: THEY ARE ALL GONE by HENRY VAUGHAN THE LILY OF THE VALLEY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES PSALM 47 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE BLANDID'S SONG, FR. THE CRIER BY NIGHT by GORDON BOTTOMLEY LULLABY by FRED EMERSON BROOKS LIMERICK by ROBERT JONES BURDETTE CRUCIFIXUS PRO NOBIS: 3. CHRIST IN HIS PASSION by PATRICK CAREY |