(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849 / Boston)


Romance, who loves to nod and sing,
With drowsy head and folded wing,
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been- a most familiar bird-
Taught me my alphabet to say-
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child- with a most knowing eye.

Of late, eternal Condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky.
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings-
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away- forbidden things!
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.

User Rating: 3,5 / 5 ( 67 votes ) 8

Comments (8)

Absolutely splendid poem. I thoroughly enjoyed discussing this wonderful piece of work. Fantastic
Not too good. But ok
Romance is a matter of heart. One needs to look deep into the heart.
Add a comment.love UA writtings
ohhhhhhh, beautiful this poem.10++++
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