The peace of a wandering sky, Silence, only the cry Of the crickets, suddenly still, A bee on the window-sill, A bird's wing, rushing and soft, Three flails that tramp in the loft, Summer murmuring Some sweet, slumberous thing, Half asleep; but thou, cease, Heart, to hunger for peace, Or, if thou must find rest, Cease to beat in my breast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION; A POEM. ENLARGED VERSION: BOOK 1 by MARK AKENSIDE THE QUEEN'S RIDE; AN INVITATION by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE SONG OF THE ILL-BELOVED; TO PAUL LEAUTARD by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE THE BIRDS: THE BIRDS' LIFE by ARISTOPHANES THE MIRROR OF DIANA by MATHILDE BLIND |