Ere yet the earliest warbler wakes Of coming spring to tell, From every marsh a chorus breaks -- A choir invisible -- As though the blossoms underground A breath of utterance had found. Whence comes the liquid melody? The summer clouds can bring No fresher music from the sky Than here the marshes sing. Methinks the mists about to rise Are chanting their rain prophecies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUTH'S PROGENY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON I AM BORNE ONWARD by SARA TEASDALE SONNETS ATTEMPTED IN THE MANNER OF CONTEMPORARY WRITERS: 3 by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE TWO WITCHES: 1. THE WITCH OF COOS by ROBERT FROST COMMEMORATION ODE READ AT HARVARD UNIVERSITY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL ON THE ENGINE BY NIGHT by ALEXANDER ANDERSON I SHALL HAVE PEACE AGAIN (WRITTEN AFTER READING 'RIDERS TO THE SEA' by FLORA LOUISE BAILEY |