MYRIADS and myriads plumed their glistening wings, As fine as any bird that soars and sings, As bright as fireflies or the dragon-flies, Or birds of paradise. Myriads and myriads waved their sheeny fans, Soft as the dove's breast, or the pelican's; And some were gold, and some were green, and some Pink-lipped, like the apple-bloom. A low wind tossed the plumage all one way, Rippled with gold feathers, and green and grey— A low wind that in moving sang one song All day and all night long. Sweet honey in the leafage, and cool dew, A roof of stars, a tent of gold and blue; Silence and sound at once, and dim green light, To turn the gold day night. Some trees hung lanterns out, and some had stars, Silver as Hesper, and rose-red as Mars; A low wind flung the lanterns low and high, A low wind like a sigh. Myriads and myriads, more in number than The sea's sands, or its drops of water wan, Sang one name in the rapture that is May, With faces turned one way. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR LAUREL AND HARDY ON MY WORKROOM WALL by DAVID WAGONER CAVALIER TUNES: MARCHING ALONG by ROBERT BROWNING SANTORIN (A LEGEND OF THE AEGEAN) by JAMES ELROY FLECKER SAMSON AGONISTES by JOHN MILTON THE LAST SUPPER by RAINER MARIA RILKE ONCE I PASS'D THROUGH A POPULOUS CITY by WALT WHITMAN |