THERE is no unawakened string, No untried note for me to ring, No new-found song for me to sing. Old numbers round my day and night; When summer comes my heart is light; 'Tis heavy, when the birds take flight. My love is young, her face is fair, The sun-light never leaves her hair, Her beauty fills me with a prayer. And many a tryst and watch I keep, With those who laugh and those who weep, Between the hours of work and sleep. The songs I strive to sing have rolled Through times and ages manifold, A mighty chorus fully told. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ON TAGORE by MARIANNE MOORE TO THE ONE OF FICTIVE MUSIC by WALLACE STEVENS RECOLLECTIONS OF THE ARABIAN NIGHTS by ALFRED TENNYSON CYNTHIA RETURNED FROM THE COUNTRY by PHILIP AYRES HOLLYWOOD NOCTURNE by JANE BOWER THE TWO FLAMES by ELOISE BRITON TO EDWARD NOEL LONG, ESQ. by GEORGE GORDON BYRON SONGS OF THE SEA CHILDREN: 45 by BLISS CARMAN FORTUNE; BALADES DE VISAGE SANZ PEINTURE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |