I DO not see the hills around, Nor mark the tints the copses wear; I do not note the grassy ground And constellated daisies there. I hear not the contralto note Of cuckoos hid on either hand, The whirr that shakes the nighthawk's throat When eve's brown awning hoods the land. Some say each songster, tree, and mead - All eloquent of love divine - Receives their constant careful heed: Such keen appraisement is not mine. The tones around me that I hear, The aspects, meanings, shapes I see, Are those far back ones missed when near, And now perceived too late by me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOCKING BIRD by SIDNEY LANIER TO THE RIVER by EDGAR ALLAN POE THE WORLD: A CHILD'S SONG by WILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 45 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI CROSSING THE BAR by ALFRED TENNYSON THE HIGH-PRIEST TO ALEXANDER by ALFRED TENNYSON |