The Nympholept

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916)

There was a boy — not above childish fears —

With steps that faltered now and straining ears,

Timid, irresolute, yet dauntless still,

Who one bright dawn, when each remotest hill

Stood sharp and clear in Heaven’s unclouded blue

And all Earth shimmered with fresh-beaded dew,

Risen in the first beams of the gladdening sun,

Walked up into the mountains. One by one

Each towering trunk beneath his sturdy stride

Fell back, and ever wider and more wide

The boundless prospect opened. Long he strayed,

From dawn till the last trace of slanting shade

Had vanished from the canyons, and, dismayed

At that far length to which his path had led,

He paused — at such a height where overhead

The clouds hung close, the air came thin and chill,

And all was hushed and calm and very still,

Save, from abysmal gorges, where the sound

Of tumbling waters rose, and all around

The pines, by those keen upper currents blown,

Muttered in multitudinous monotone.

Here, with the wind in lovely locks laid bare,

With arms oft raised in dedicative prayer,

Lost in mute rapture and adoring wonder,

He stood, till the far noise of noontide thunder,

Rolled down upon the muffled harmonies

Of wind and waterfall and whispering trees,

Made loneliness more lone. Some Panic fear

Would seize him then, as they who seemed to hear

In Tracian valleys or Thessalian woods

The god’s hallooing wake the leafy solitudes;

I think it was the same: some piercing sense

Of Deity’s pervasive immanence,

The Life that visible Nature doth indwell

Grown great and near and all but palpable . . .

He might not linger, but with winged strides

Like one pursued, fled down the mountain-sides —

Down the long ridge that edged the steep ravine,

By glade and flowery lawn and upland green,

And never paused nor felt assured again

But where the grassy foothills opened. Then,

While shadows lengthened on the plain below

And the sun vanished and the sunset-glow

Looked back upon the world with fervid eye

Through the barred windows of the western sky,

Homeward he fared, while many a look behind

Showed the receding ranges dim-outlined,

Highland and hollow where his path had lain,

Veiled in deep purple of the mountain rain.

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Poems in English 

• Sonnet 20: A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 1: From fairest creatures we desire increase by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 19: Devouring Time blunt thou the lion’s paws by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 17: Who will believe my verse in time to come by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 16: But wherefore do not you a mightier way by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 15: When I consider every thing that grows by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 154: The little Love-god lying once asleep by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 153: Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 152: In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 151: Love is too young to know what conscience is by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 150: O from what power hast thou this powerful might by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 14: Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 54: O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 53: What is your substance, whereof are you made by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 52: So am I as the rich whose blessèd key by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 51: Thus can my love excuse the slow offence by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 50: How heavy do I journey on the way by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 4: Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 49: Against that time, if ever that time come by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

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