Oh to be free of myself, With nothing left to remember, To have my heart as bare As a tree in December; Resting, as a tree rests After its leaves are gone, Waiting no more for a rain at night Nor for the red at dawn; But still, oh so still While the winds come and go, With no more fear of the hard frost Or the bright burden of snow; And heedless, heedless If anyone pass and see On the white page of the sky Its thin black tracery. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NATURES COOK by MARGARET LUCAS CAVENDISH TWO FUSILIERS by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES THE PRESENT CRISIS by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE OLD MAN'S WISH by WALTER POPE TO THE SMALL CELANDINE (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH A LULLABY by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA THE FIRST BREAK by ALEXANDER ANDERSON |