For W. P. The little park was filled with peace, The walks were carpeted with snow, But every iron gate was locked. Lest if we entered, peace would go. We circled it a dozen times, The wind was blowing from the sea, I only felt your restless eyes Whose love was like a cloak for me. Oh heavy gates that fate has locked To bar the joy we may not win, Peace would go out forevermore If we should dare to enter in. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE DEATH OF MR. WILLIAM HERVEY by ABRAHAM COWLEY THE LOST JEWEL by EMILY DICKINSON THE TROPICS IN NEW YORK by CLAUDE MCKAY SIDNEY GODOLPHIN by CLINTON SCOLLARD DRINKING; PARAPHRASED by ANACREON GETHSEMANE by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS GRISELDA: CHAPTER 4 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT CLEVEDON VERSES: 7. NORTON WOOD (DORA'S BIRTHDAY) by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |