BLACK mountains pricked with pointed pine A melancholy sky. Out-distanced was the German vine, The sterile fields lay high. From swarthy Alps I travelled forth Aloft; it was the north, the north; Bound for the Noon was I. I seemed to breast the streams that day; I met, opposed, withstood The northward rivers on their way, My heart against the flood -- My heart that pressed to rise and reach, And felt the love of altering speech, Of frontiers, in its blood. But O the unfolding South! the burst Of summer! O to see Of all the southward brooks the first! The travelling heart went free With endless streams; that strife was stopped; And down a thousand vales I dropped, I flowed to Italy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COUNTRY FAITH by NORMAN ROWLAND GALE ODE ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF CLAPHAM ACADEMY by THOMAS HOOD PICCADILLY CIRCUS AT NIGHT: STREETWALKERS by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE EBB by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER by JOHN MILTON BEAUTIFUL MEALS by THOMAS STURGE MOORE TO HAFIZ by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A COUNTRY NOSEGAY by ALFRED AUSTIN THE FIGHT WITH THE SNAPPING TURTLE; OR, THE AMERICAN ST. GEORGE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |