RETURN, Content! for fondly I pursued, Even when a child, the Streams -- unheard, unseen; Through tangled woods, impending rocks between; Or, free as air, with flying inquest viewed The sullen reservoirs whence their bold brood -- Pure as the morning, fretful, boisterous, keen, Green as the salt-sea billows, white and green -- Poured down the hills, a choral multitude! Nor have I tracked their course for scanty gains; They taught me random cares and truant joys, That shield from mischief and preserve from stains Vague minds, while men are growing out of boys; Maturer Fancy owes to their rough noise Impetuous thoughts that brook not servile reins. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BROTHER AND SISTER by MARY ANN EVANS IN HARDWOOD GROVES by ROBERT FROST AN ENGLISH MOTHER by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON THE BATTLE-CRY OF FREEDOM by GEORGE FREDERICK ROOT SHUT OUT by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE MARSEILLAISE by CLAUDE JOSEPH ROUGET DE LISLE THE TENT ON THE BEACH: 8. THE CABLE HYMN by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |