No, but the branches striking in the wind Romancing to its mate, but where art thou Summer’s bright wings shining ere they are furled. Shrivel in his hot grasp his burning breathĭries the sweet water-springs that in the shade The fainting year sees her fresh flowery wreath Withering and scorching, o’er the mossy sod. The stormy light of his fierce lurid eyes?Īutumn is come his brazen feet have trod, I hear it in the murmuring of the floods,Īutumn is come seest thou not in the skies, The scene’s lone Genius by her elfin-thread. Sailed o’er the chasm, in thought a highway led Sat musing and where scarce a wandering crow Of sea-bound steamer, on yon summit’s head The frowning barriers that its force defied!īut Art, high o’er the trailing smoke below Shrank, and beneath the woods through the green land Severed these riven rocks, and bade them stand
Who, with an earthquake’s might and giant hand, The Bridge Between Clifton And Leigh Woods On the green-mantled moat that sleeps below. Nor mov’d by gold–nor to be mov’d by tears Īnd terraced walls their black reflection throw
In vain! the nurse that rusted relic wears, Her little heart oft flutters to be free, When the hern screams along the distant lake, Here, here’s the place where these bright angels walk.Ĭaged in old woods, whose reverend echoes wake Mind not their learned whims and idle talk To fix the ground where Paradise was placed On Seeing The Ladies Crux-Easton Walk In The Woods By The Grotto.Īuthors the world and their dull brains have traced Lighthearted I walked into the valley wood Scattered in flocks of ruin, tossed and blown
In whose lament I hear a voice that grievesįor battle’s fruitless harvest, and the feud The bronzed battalions of the stricken wood October’s bellowing anger breaks and cleaves To gather grapes for the leopards, my friend. Where the gods walk garlanded in wisteria,īy the silver-blue flood move others with ivory cars. The yellow Cowslip, and the pale Primrose. The Flowry May, who from her green lap throws Now the bright morning Star, Dayes harbinger,Ĭomes dancing from the East, and leads with her To us, who fears to lift looks from the earth, The bird began to sing the song of light and pleasure The silver beauty of her gentle branches. The silver willow through window then stretched in, The ghost of first days came again to us, These lips and these eyes of the loved and the lover.Īn as it’s going often at love’s breaking, The void shall not weary, the fear shall not alter Yet their hands shall not tremble, their feet shall not falter Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonderĪnd this day draw a veil over all deeds pass’d over, The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder, Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover
Love is enough: though the World be a-waning,Īnd the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining, 8 Poems About Dark Woods My Favorite Poem About WoodsĪnd miles to go before I sleep.
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