DAY followed day; years perish; still mine eyes Are opened on the self-same round of space; Yon fadeless forests in their Titan grace, And the large splendors of those opulent skies. I watch, unwearied, the miraculous dyes Of dawn or sunset; the soft boughs which lace Round some coy dryad in a lonely place, Thrilled with low whispering and strange sylvan sighs: Weary? the poet's mind is fresh as dew, And oft re-filled as fountains of the light. His clear child's soul finds something sweet and new Even in a weed's heart, the carved leaves of corn, The spear-like grass, the silvery rim of morn, A cloud rose-edged, and fleeting stars at night! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A FLOWER FROM THE FIELD OF GRUTLI by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 70. THE HILL-SUMMIT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI HYMN: 32. THE NATIVITY OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR JESUS CHRIST by CHRISTOPHER SMART HOLYHEAD, SEPTEMBER 25, 1727 by JONATHAN SWIFT THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 1. AIR by JOHN ARMSTRONG A LETTER by PHILIP JAMES BAILEY |