Yet once again do I behold the forms Of these huge mountains, and yet once again, Standing beneath these elms, I hear thy voice, Beloved Derwent, that peculiar voice Heard in the stillness of the evening air, Half-heard and half-created. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOT TRANSHISTORICAL DEATH, OR AT LEAST NOT QUITE by HAYDEN CARRUTH IF I GROW OLD by ETHEL BERRY ALLEN THE OLD SHOE by FRANCOIS COPPEE LA VITA NUOVA: SONNET. BEATRICE HAS GONE UP INTO HIGH HEAVEN by DANTE ALIGHIERI MY LIFE'S EXAMPLE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES |