LET my soul, a shining tree, Silver branches lift towards thee, Where on a hallowed winter's night The clear-eyed angels may alight. And if there should be tempests in My spirit, let them surge like din Of noble melodies at war; With fervour of such blades of triumph as are Flashed in white orisons of saints who go On shafts of glory to the ecstasies they know. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOLY CROSS DAY by ROBERT BROWNING ROBIN REDBREAST by GEORGE WASHINGTON DOANE AS KINGFISHERS CATCH FIRE by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THOMAS MACDONAGH by FRANCIS LEDWIDGE THE LADDER OF SAINT AUGUSTINE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ON A SOLDIER FALLEN IN THE PHILIPPINES by WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY |