QUAFF the mid-forest spring! Sink palms and knees In the deep moss and let the big rank ferns Strike on the flushed cheek and the fevered neck, And let thy hair, warmed in those sultry shades, Float, with the oozy twigs and yellow leaves, The near black water! O with pursèd lips Quaff till thou feelst it cool in heart and frame— Then up through pines and thickets to the light! Yonder the valley and the mountain lake! The sunset clouds are trembling in the waves, The wild deer drink among the windy rocks; And thou shalt call for joy aloud, and hear A mountain echo that will die away Seven times repeated on the crimson air! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: WIDOW FORTELKA by EDGAR LEE MASTERS NATURES COOK by MARGARET LUCAS CAVENDISH IMMORTALITY by EMILY DICKINSON TO PFRIMMER (LINES ON READING 'DRIFTWOOD') by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR RAIN ON A GRAVE by THOMAS HARDY HER LETTER by FRANCIS BRET HARTE NOBODY KNOWS BUT MOTHER by MARY MORRISON |