It winds along the face of a cliff This path which I long to explore, And over it dashes a waterfall, And the air is full of the roar And the thunderous voice of waters which sweep In a silver torrent over some steund, And small, wet wildflowers star the ground. Oh! The dampness is very good to smell, And the path is soft to tread, And beyond the fall it winds up and on, While little streamlets thread Their own meandering way down the hill Each singing its own little song, until I forget that 't is only a pictured path, And I hear the water and wind, And look through the mist, and strain my eyes To see what there is behind; For it must lead to a happy land, This little path by a waterfall spanned. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE SMALL CELANDINE (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH A SLEEPLESS NIGHT by ALFRED AUSTIN OLD LADY NECESSITY by BERTON BRALEY OUR PRISONERS OF WAR IN GERMANY by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES IMPROMPTU ON MRS. RIDDEL'S BIRTHDAY by ROBERT BURNS GLIMPSES OF CHILDHOOD: 3. THE DOLLS' HOSPITAL by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |