Art thou there, between thy rivers, With thy towered sea front bold— There, between the dawn and sunset, Lit with amethyst or gold? Art thou there, enchanted island I shall never more behold? Dost thou loom, in mystic beauty, Through the hazy, summer light, Like the vision, seen in Patmos, Of the city in the height? Often times, a grey armada, Anchored midst thy waters bright? Art thou filled with joyous tumults That from far thy travellers hail? Do thy clangors grow a music— Throbbing pave and vibrant rail? Still thy masted lights keep vigil, While thy pleasures never fail? Art thou there, my haven city, Open armed to each oppressed? Art thou there, with all thy strangers Thou hast taken to thy breast— Latin, Slav, and tawny alien From an East beyond the West? Art thou there, midst all abundance, From the wide world's gardens shed— Thou, with palace dwellers—toilers— Strugglers earning scanty bread? Palace dwellers, toilers, beggars, But thy streets they still may tread! Oh, the echoes of thy pavements Where my feet no more shall be! Art thou there, enchanted island— Thou mine eyes no more shall see? Yet I know, past peradventure, Loosed, my soul shall wing to thee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FALCONER OF GOD by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE COMING OF GOOD LUCK by ROBERT HERRICK CARILLON by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO ALTHEA, FROM PRISON by RICHARD LOVELACE ELEGIAC SONNET: 44. WRITTEN IN THE CHURCH YARD AT MIDDLETON IN SUSSEX by CHARLOTTE SMITH |