Like him who met his own eyes in the river, The poet trembles at his own long gaze That meets him through the changing nights and days From out great Nature; all her waters quiver With his fair image facing him for ever; The music that he listens to betrays His own heart to his ears; by trackless ways His wild thoughts tend to him in long endeavour. His dreams are far among the silent hills; His vague voice calls him from the darkened plain With winds at night; strange recognition thrills His lonely heart with piercing love and pain; He knows his sweet mirth in the mountain rills, His weary tears that touch him with the rain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DESPAIR AND FEAR by EMILY DICKINSON THE BATTLE OF LA PRAIRIE, 1691 by WILLIAM DOUW LIGHTHALL IN A BYE-CANAL by HERMAN MELVILLE HOW CYRUS LAID THE CABLE [JULY 29, 1866] by JOHN GODFREY SAXE SONNET FROM JAPAN: 2. THE SHRINE OF THE PILGRIM SANDALS by ADELAIDE NICHOLS BAKER HAUNTED STREETS by MATHILDE BLIND THE GOLDEN ODES OF PRE-ISLAMIC ARABIA: ANTARA by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |