Sane, random, negligent hours, Sane, easy, culminating hours, After the flush, the Indian summer, of my life, Away from Books -- away from Art -- the lesson learn'd, pass'd o'er, Soothing, bathing, merging all -- the sane, magnetic, Now for the day and night themselves -- the open air, Now for the fields, the seasons, insects, trees -- the rain and snow, Where wild bees flitting hum, Or August mulleins grow, or winter's snowflakes fall, Or stars in the skies roll round -- The silent sun and stars. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHRISTMAS AT INDIAN POINT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS APPRECIATION by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH AS KINGFISHERS CATCH FIRE by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE MOSS ROSE by FRIEDRICH ADOLF KRUMMACHER THE TRAGICAL HISTORY OF THE LIFE AND DEATH OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS by CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE A LETTER FROM A GIRL TO HER OWN OLD AGE by ALICE MEYNELL |