Go, solitary wood, and henceforth be Acquainted with no other harmony Than the pies' chattering, or the shrieking note Of boding owls and fatal raven's throat. Thy sweetest chanter's dead, that warbled forth Lays that might tempests calm, and still the north, And call down angels from their glorious sphere To hear her songs, and learn new anthems there. That soul is fled, and to Elysium gone; Thou a poor desert left. Go, then, and run; Beg there to stand a grove, and if she please To sing again beneath thy shadowy trees, The souls of happy lovers crown'd with blisses Shall flock about thee, and keep time with kisses. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 7. THE SILENCE by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER BINSEY POPLARS (FELLED 1879) by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS A LITTLE SONG OF LIFE by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1877 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |