WHAT stirs in my heart so? What lures me from home? What forces me outwards, And onwards to roam? Far up on the mountains Lie cloudlets like snow; O were I but yonder, 'Tis there I must go! Now by come the ravens So solemn and black; I mingle among them, And follow their track: By rock and by turret We silently glide; Ah, there is the bower, where My lady doth bide! She walks in the greenwood, That beautiful may; Like a bird, singing clearly, I drop on the spray. She lists, and she lingers, And softly says she -- 'How sweetly it singeth, It singeth for me!' The sunset is gilding The peaks of the hill, The day is declining, Yet tarries she still: She follows the brooklet Through meadow and glade, Till dark is the pathway, And lost in the shade. Then, then I come down, as A swift-shooting star; 'What light glimmers yonder, So near yet so far?' Ere yet the amazement Hath pass'd from thee, sweet, My quest it is ended, I lie at thy feet! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INDIAN WOMAN'S DEATH-SONG by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 27 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN SUMMER LONGINGS by DENIS FLORENCE MCCARTHY TAMERLANE (4) by EDGAR ALLAN POE THE LOAN by SABINE BARING-GOULD SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 11. THE GREEK POET IN ENGLAND by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |