The wintry war is over, and he stands Bruised and bewildered there; Stretching his thin and nervous hands In the warm air. The early glow's forgotten and instead A softer tumult starts in every vein; He feels like one a long time dead Who lives again. Fantastic dreams, strange wants assail him now; He feels that he must burst in blossoms, rise And thrust one great and jubilant bough Into the skies. He thinks of birds and sunlight, hopes to see Earth as he knew it, prodigal and gay. ... And there he stands—an old, bent tree, Leafless in May. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO AN EARLY DAFFODIL; SONNET by AMY LOWELL GRIEF by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ON THE DEATH OF MR. WILLIAM HERVEY by ABRAHAM COWLEY CINQUAIN: SUSANNA AND THE ELDERS by ADELAIDE CRAPSEY THE LITTLE OLD WOMEN; TO VICTOR HUGO by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE BEES IN CLOVER; A SONG by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |