"THAT was the thrush's last good-night," I thought,
And heard the soft descent of summer rain
In the droop'd garden leaves; but hush! again
The perfect iterance,--freer than unsought
Odours of violets dim in woodland ways,
Deeper than coiled waters laid a-dream
Below moss'd ledges of a shadowy stream,
And faultless as blown roses in June days.
Full-throat'd singer! art thou thus anew
Voiceful to hear how round thyself alone
The enriched silence drops for thy delight
More soft than snow, more sweet than honey-dew?
Now cease: the last faint western streak is gone,
Stir not the blissful quiet of the night.
In The Garden Iv: The Singer
Edward Dowden
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Poem topics: alone, dream, june, perfect, rain, silence, snow, summer, sweet, good, hear, honey, garden, delight, quiet, throat, thought, stream, night, soft, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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