As one who strays from out some shadowy glade, Fronting a lurid noontide, stern, yet bright, O'er mart and tower, and castellated height, Shrinks slowly backward, dazed and half afraid -- So I, whose household gods their stand have made Far from the populous city's life and light, Its roar of traffic and its stormy might, Shrink as I pass beyond my woodland shade. The wordy conflict, the tempestuous din Of these vast capitals, on ear and brain Beat with the loud, reiterated swell Of one fierce strain of passion and of sin, Strange as in nightmare dreams the mad refrain Of some wild chorus of the vaults of Hell. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE CHILD by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE VIKING GRAVE AT LADBY by KAREN SWENSON SOHRAB AND RUSTUM by MATTHEW ARNOLD TO NATURE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE AFTER THE QUARREL by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE PRINCESS: SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON |