WHAT is time, O glorious Giver, With its restlessness and might, But a lost and wandering river Working back into the light? Every gloomy rock that troubles Its smooth passage, strikes to life Beautiful and joyous bubbles That are only born through strife. Overhung with mist-like shadows, Stretch its shores away, away, To the long, delightful meadows Shining with immortal May: Where its moaning reaches never, Passion, pain, or fear to move, And the changes bring us ever Sabbaths and new moons of love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A PALMETTO by SIDNEY LANIER SENRYU: BLIND DATE by TIMOTHY LIU FLUTE-PRIEST SONG FOR RAIN; CEREMONIAL AT THE SUN SPRING by AMY LOWELL |