His was a chamber in the topmost tower - A small unsightly cell with grated bars; And wearily went on each irksome hour Of dim captivity and moody cares; Against such visitants he was not strong, But sat with laden heart and brow of woe; And every morn he heard the stir and song Of birds in royal gardens far below, Telling of bowers and dewy lawns unseen, Drench'd with the silver steam that night had shed; Part blossom-white, part exquisitely green, By little warblers roam'd and tenanted, Blending their glad wild notes to greet the sheen Of the May Dawn, that gleam'd upon his bed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DONKEY by GILBERT KEITH CHESTERTON HYSTERIA by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 34. TRUE LOVE KNOWS BUT ONE by PHILIP AYRES LAST DAYS OF BYRON by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES PSALM 96 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 30 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |