The lonely convent on the hill Draws merchants faring from the west; Almost upon the waters still The quiet clouds lean down and rest. In green pavilions of warm trees The golden builders toil and sing; While swallows dip along the leas, And dabble in the ooze of Spring. A thousand flowers, a thousand dreams, Bright pageants in confusion pass. See yonder, where the white horse gleams His fetlocks deep in pliant grass. Beside the eastern lake there calls No laughing throng, no lover goes; But in the long embankment walls The willow shade invites repose. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARY'S LAMB by SARAH JOSEPHA BUELL HALE ASTRONOMY by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE LAY OF THE LOVELORN; PARODY OF TENNYSON'S 'LOCKSLEY HALL' by THEODORE MARTIN THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 16 by OMAR KHAYYAM AUTUMN (1) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO A PORTRAIT by ARTHUR WILLIAM SYMONS |