WHERE sunshine flecks the green, Through towering woods my way Goes winding all the day. Scant are the flowers that bloom Beneath the bosky screen And cage of golden gloom. Few are the birds that call, Shrill-voiced and seldom seen. Where silence masters all, And light my footsteps fall, The whispering runnels only With blazing noon confer; And comes no breeze to stir The tangled thickets lonely. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE COLLAR OF MRS. DINGLEY'S LAP-DOG by JONATHAN SWIFT PRAYER FOR A DREAM by JOHN C. ADLER ASPIRATIONS: 6 by MATHILDE BLIND ADONIS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT BLESS THE BLESSED MORN by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR |