He halted in the wind, and, what was that Far in the maples, pale, but not a ghost? He stood there bringing March against his thought, And yet too ready to believe the most. Oh, that's the Paradise-in-bloom,' I said; And truly it was fair enough for flowers had we but in us to assume in march Such white luxuriance of May for ours. We stood a moment so in a strange world, Myself as one his own pretense deceives; And then I said the truth (and we moved on). A young beech clinging to its last year's leaves. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VISION OF BELSHAZZAR by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ROBERT BROWNING by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR TO ONE IN PARADISE by EDGAR ALLAN POE THE SWALLOWS by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS OUR BIRTH-CORD by KOFI ANYIDOHO |