MY frame hath often trembled with delight When hope presented some far-distant good, That seemed from heaven descending, like the flood Of yon pure waters, from their aery height Hurrying, with lordly Duddon to unite; Who, 'mid a world of images imprest On the calm depth of his transparent breast, Appears to cherish most that Torrent white, The fairest, softest, liveliest of them all! And seldom hath ear listened to a tune More lulling than the busy hum of Noon, Swoln by that voice -- whose murmur musical Announces to the thirsty fields a boon Dewy and fresh, till showers again shall fall. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BRUTUS LIVES AGAIN IN BOOTH by EDGAR LEE MASTERS MIMNERMUS IN CHURCH by WILLIAM JOHNSON CORY WHEN MALINDY SINGS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE SHADOW ON THE STONE by THOMAS HARDY RETURN OF THE NATIVE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE BATTLE OF LIEGE by DANA BURNET WHY DISTRICT SCHOOL USED TO KEEP IN VERMONT by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY |