Why do I make no poems? Good my friend Now is there silence through the summer woods, In whose green depths and lawny solitudes The light is dreaming; voicings clear ascend Now from no hollow where glad rivulets wend, But murmurings low of inarticulate moods, Softer than stir of unfledged cushat broods, Breathe, till o'erdrowsed the heavy flower-heads bend. Now sleep the crystal and heart-charmèd waves Round white, sunstricken rocks the noontide long, Or 'mid the coolness of dim lighted caves Sway in a trance of vague deliciousness; And I,-I am too deep in joy's excess For the imperfect impulse of a song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEA POPPIES by HILDA DOOLITTLE TWO FUSILIERS by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES SIR LANCELOT AND QUEEN GUINEVERE by ALFRED TENNYSON HOMAGE TO QUINTUS SEPTIMIUS FLORENTIS CHRISTIANUS (2) by ANYTE BENNINGTON by WILLIAM HENRY BABCOCK |