AN inspiration caught from dubious hues Filled him, and mystic wrynesses he chased; For they lead farther than the single-faced, Wave subtler promise when desire pursues. The moon of cloud discoloured was his Muse, His pipe the reed of the old moaning waste. Love was to him with anguish fast enlaced, And Beauty where she walked blood-shot the dews. Men railed at such a singer; women thrilled Responsively: he sang not Nature's own Divinest, but his lyric had a tone, As 'twere a forest-echo of her voice: What barrenly they yearn for seemed distilled From what they dread, who do through tears rejoice. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO S-----D (1) by WILLIAM BLAKE THE COMFORTING by MARGARET E. BRUNER SNOWFLAKE SONG by HILDA CONKLING |