There comes not through the o'erarching cloud of green A harsh, an envious sound to jar the ear: But vaguely swells a hum, now far, now near, Where the wild honey-bee beyond the screen Of beech-leaves haunts the field of flowering bean. Far, far away the low voice of the weir Dies into silence. Hush'd now is the clear Sweet song down-circling from the lark unseen. Beyond me, where I lie, the shrew-mice run A-patter where of late the streamlet's tones Made music: on a branch a drowsy bird Sways by the webs that midst dry pools are spun -- Yet lives the streamlet still, for o'er flat stones The slow lapse of the gradual wave is heard. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: A SUBTERRANEAN CITY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE PRISONER OF CHILLON: INTRODUCTORY SONNET by GEORGE GORDON BYRON A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 47. THE CARPENTER'S SON by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN SONNET OF HIS LADY IN HEAVEN by JACOPO DA LENTINO A BALLAD OF LONDON (TO H.W. MASSINGHAM) by RICHARD THOMAS LE GALLIENNE DULCE ET DECORUM EST by WILFRED OWEN |