The way seemed full of her, but these came nigh, Fluting like birds, and calicoed bright and clean, And beautiful their bosoms poutering by! "But ye are a cloud," I said, "too much between." Beauties have called to me from the woody grot, The quick brown fox, and the red-tail tanager, And the balsam tree; and how ye prospered not! Ye were but scene, but frame, for circling her. Up once I rose, in a fury of heard-of things, To travel the splendid sphere and see its fame; But the wars and ships and towns and the roaring kings But flashed with the image of her! and back I came. Since when I stay; I let the wide world spin; She brings me all the other wonders in. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A MOTH SEEN IN WINTER by ROBERT FROST THE SONG OF THE MAD WOMAN'S SON by KAREN SWENSON DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 7. THE SILENCE by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER THE LITTLE HILL by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY PRINCETON by LYMAN WHITNEY ALLEN SOLILOQUIES OF A SMALL-TOWN TAXI-DRIVER: ON THE EMOTIONS by EDGAR BARRATT |