They tell me on the morrow I must leave This winter eyrie for a southern flight And truth to tell I tremble with delight At thought of such unheralded reprieve. E'er have I known December in a weave Of blanched crystal, when, thrice one short night Packed full with magic, and O blissful sight! N'er May so warmly doth for April grieve. To in a breath's space wish the winter through And lo, to see it fading! Where, oh, where Is caract could endow this princely boon? Yet I have found it and shall shortly view The lush high grasses, shortly see in air Gay birds and hear the bees make heavy droon. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EVENING SONG OF THE THOUGHTFUL CHILD by KATHERINE MANSFIELD LET ME NOT LOSES MY DREAM by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON AN EXPLANATION by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON STREET-CRIES: 2. THE SHIP OF EARTH by SIDNEY LANIER NEBUCHADNEZZAR: OR EATING GRASS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |