Hear I the mourning-dove, As now the swallow floats Low o'er the shadowed oats? Soft as the voice of love, Hear I her slow and supplicating notes? O fugitive! O lone! O burden pure and strong That summer noons prolong! O link in music shown Between the silence and an angel's song! The dulcimer and lute Hoard not so swoonless woe. What grief of long ago Would now thy tones transmute To what we sought afar and could not know? Thy yearnings yet elude Our quest and scrutiny, Tho mortals echo thee Thy moan in solitude For dreams that are not nor shall ever be. So broken waters hold A voice to sorrow set— A world's foreknown regret, Immutable, untold. So seas remember, tho our souls forget. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO SIMPLICITY by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) OLD SUSAN by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE ULTIMA VERITAS by WASHINGTON GLADDEN I AM THE PEOPLE, THE MOB by CARL SANDBURG IAMBICUM TRIMETRUM, FR. LETTER TO HARVEY by EDMUND SPENSER THE SUPPLIANTS: THE WORLD'S HARMONIOUS PLAN by AESCHYLUS |