O PLACID Don! I see thee flow With shallow, snowy-sanded stream, While light the steppe-winds o'er thee blow, And cranes and gray-winged herons dream, -- Safe as beside some dark lagoon, -- Along thy banks in breezeless noon. The Cossack wanders from thy shore, But never finds a wave so fair; Thy summer lapse, thy winter roar, Still greet him in remotest air; And death is sweet if he may lie, With cross above, thy waters by. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DOLLS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE HANDSOME KNIGHT by MUHAMMAD AL-MU'TAMID II PENISKEE by THOMAS GOLD APPLETON A TRINITY OF MOTHERHOOD by FRED CLARE BALDWIN SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 30. CHRIST AND WOMAN by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |