Thou bid'st me take the axe, and rudely smite Yon belt of trees that bounds thy searching eyes. Thou hast a stranger's heart, an alien's sight, For all those dear home objects which I prize; I love the rooks, that drop the wearied wing At eve so fondly on their native grove, And to mine ear and eyesight daily bring So many sounds and motions that I love; And in that path beneath, ere day is done, How oft I pace beside the setting sun; How oft I watch the nightly orb arise On the dark trees, my garden guest to be. I will not throw her back on open skies, No axe shall part my woodland moon and me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SWAMP ANGEL by HERMAN MELVILLE LONDON'S SUMMER MORNING by MARY DARBY ROBINSON THE LAMPLIGHTER by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON SUNDAY UP THE RIVER: 15 by JAMES THOMSON (1834-1882) EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 33. LOVE KEEPS ALL THINGS IN ORDER by PHILIP AYRES SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 42. 'GRECIAN AND ENGLISH' by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) AUTUMN; WRITTEN IN THE GROUNDS OF MARTIN COLE, ESQ. by BERNARD BARTON |