WIND-SILVERED willows hedge the stream, And all within is hushed and cool. The water, in an endless dream, Goes sliding down from pool to pool. And every pool a sapphire is, From shadowy deep to sunlit edge, Ribboned around with irises And cleft with emerald spears of sedge. O, every morn the winds are stilled, The sunlight falls in amber bars. O, every night the pools are filled With silver brede of shaken stars. O, every morn the sparrow flings His elfin trills athwart the hush, And here unseen at eve there sings One crystal-throated hermit-thrush. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOST JEWEL by EMILY DICKINSON THE OLD VIOLIN by MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN TO ELIZABETH, COUNTESS OF RUTLAND by BEN JONSON THYESTES, ACT 2: CHORUS by LUCIUS ANNAEUS SENECA NEW PRINCE, NEW POMP by ROBERT SOUTHWELL FANCIES AT NAVESINK: 6 by WALT WHITMAN SONGS OF LABOR: DEDICATION by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER OVERTURE TO A DANCE OF LOCOMOTIVES by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS |