SPREAD the feast, and let there be Such music heard as best beseems A king's son coming from the sea To wed a maiden of the streams. Poets, pale for long ago, Bring sweet sounds from rock and flood, You by echo's accent know Where the water is and wood. Harpers whom the moths of Time Bent and wrinkled dusty brown, Her chains are falling with a chime, Sweet as bells in Heaven town. But, harpers, leave your harps aside, And, poets, leave awhile your dreams. The storm has come upon the tide And Cathleen weeps among her streams. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER TU FU (THEY SAY YOU'RE STAYING IN A MOUNTAIN TEMPLE) by MARVIN BELL THE NAME OF JESUS by JOHN NEWTON POLITICAL GREATNESS by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 39. WON BY SUBTILTY by PHILIP AYRES SONNET: 8 by RICHARD BARNFIELD |