The lonesome for they know not What —
The Eastern Exiles — be —
Who strayed beyond the Amber line
Some madder Holiday —

And ever since — the purple Moat
They strive to climb — in vain —
As Birds — that tumble from the clouds
Do fumble at the strain —

The Blessed Ether — taught them —
Some Transatlantic Morn —
When Heaven — was too common — to miss —
Too sure — to dote upon!

Analysis, meaning and summary of the poem by

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Do you have any comments, criticism, paraphrasis or analysis of this poem that you feel would assist other visitors in understanding the meaning or the theme of this poem better? If they are accepted, they will be added to this page of American Poems. Together we can build a wealth of information, but it will take some discipline and determination.