AMID fresh roses wandering, and the soft And delicate wealth of apple-blossoms spread In tender spirals of blent white and red, Round the fair spaces of our blooming croft, This morn I caught the gurgling note, so oft Heard in the golden spring-tides that are dead, -- The swallow's note, murmuring of winter fled, Dropped silverly from passionless calms aloft: "O heart!" I said, "thy vernal depths unclose, That mirror Nature's; warm airs, come and go Of whispering ardors o'er thought's budded rose, And half-hid flowers of sweet philosophy; While now upglancing, now borne swift and low, Song like the swallow darts through fancy's sky." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NO BABY IN THE HOUSE by CLARA G. DOLLIVER A PATCH OF OLD SNOW by ROBERT FROST RELIGION AND DOCTRINE by JOHN MILTON HAY MIDWINTER BLUES by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES REBEL COLOR-BEARERS AT SHILOH by HERMAN MELVILLE |