Poet: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Volume: Birds Of Passage
Comment 4 of 4, added on December 10th, 2012 at 2:20 PM.
from United States
Comment 3 of 4, added on April 29th, 2007 at 8:35 PM.
The first verse of this poem is hauntingly beautiful to the point where it almost scares you.I had the pleasure of singing this poem with my other classmates in our chorus.It was an experience that I won't forget.
Madeline from United States
Comment 2 of 4, added on February 22nd, 2007 at 11:29 PM.
even as our cloudy fancies take
Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
In the white countenance confession,
The troubled sky reveals
The grief it feels.
This is the poem of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
this is the secret of despair,
Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
now whispered and revealed
to wood and field.
tallgrass from United States
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