THOU that hast loved so long and well The vale's deep, quiet streams, Where the pure water-lilies dwell, Shedding forth tender gleams; And o'er the pool the May-fly's wing Glances in golden eves of spring! Oh, lone and lovely haunts are thine! Soft, soft the river flows, Wearing the shadow of thy line, The gloom of alder-boughs; And in the midst a richer hue, One gliding vein of heaven's own blue. And there but low sweet sounds are heard -- The whisper of the reed, The plashing trout, the rustling bird, The scythe upon the mead; Yet, through the murmuring osiers near, There steals a step which mortals fear. 'Tis not the stag, that comes to lave At noon his panting breast; 'Tis not the bittern, by the wave Seeking her sedgy nest; The air is filled with summer's breath, The young flowers laugh -- yet look! 'tis Death! But if, where silvery currents rove, Thy heart, grown still and sage, Hath learned to read the words of love That shine o'er nature's page; If holy thoughts thy guests have been Under the shade of willows green; Then, lover of the silent hour By deep lone waters passed! Thence hast thou drawn a faith, a power, To cheer thee through the last; And, wont on brighter worlds to dwell, May'st calmly bid thy streams farewell. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SELF-ANALYSIS by DAVID IGNATOW A CARELESS HEART by ISAAC ROSENBERG SONNET: TO FANNY by JOHN KEATS I DO NOT LOVE THEE by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON THE FLIGHT OF THE GEESE by CHARLES GEORGE DOUGLAS ROBERTS LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 5. THE LOCH by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM |