I At sunset, when the rosy light was dying Far down the pathway of the west, I saw a lonely dove in silence flying, To be at rest. Pilgrim of air, I cried, could I but borrow Thy wandering wings, thy freedom blest, I'd fly away from every careful sorrow, And find my rest. II But when the filmy veil of dusk was falling, Home flew the dove to seek his nest, Deep in the forest where his mate was calling To love and rest. Peace, heart of mine! no longer sigh to wander; Lose not thy life in barren quest. There are no happy islands over yonder; Come home and rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: BARRETT BAYS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE TENTH MUSE: THE VANITY OF ALL WORLDLY THINGS by ANNE BRADSTREET TO MISS KINDER, ON RECEIVING A NOTE DATED FEBRUARY 30TH by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE EVE OF BANNOCKBURN by JOHN BARBOUR |