Crystal parting the meads. A boat drifted up it like a swan. Tranquil, lovely, its bright front to the waters, A slow swan is gone. Full waters, O flowing silver, Pure, level with the clover, It will stain drowning a star, With the moon it will brim over. Running through lands dewy and shorn, Cattle stoop at its brink, And every fawny-colored throat Will sway its bells and drink. I saw a boat sailing the river With a tranced gait. It seemed Loosed by a spell from its moorings, Or a thing the helmsman dreamed. They said it would carry no traveler, But the vessel would go down, If a heart were heavy-winged, Or the bosom it dwelt in, stone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ARCHIMEDES LAST FORAY by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET LONELY BURIAL by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE SMALLISH SON by HAYDEN CARRUTH SPECIAL EFFECTS by JAMES GALVIN BEARING LEAVES AGAIN by DAVID IGNATOW GOAL by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |