WOMAN much missed, how you call to me, call to me, Saying that now you are not as you were When you had changed from the one who was all to me, But as at first, when our day was fair. Can it be you that I hear? Let me view you, then, Standing as when I drew near to the town Where you would wait for me: yes, as I knew you then, Even to the original air-blue gown! Or is it only the breeze, in its listlessness Travelling across the wet mead to me here, You being ever dissolved to wan wistlessness, Heard no more again far or near? Thus I; faltering forward, Leaves around me falling, Wind oozing thin through the thorn from norward, And the woman calling. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WAY TO ARCADY by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER THE WAKING YEAR by EMILY DICKINSON THE COMING AMERICAN by SAM WALTER FOSS PICTURES FROM APPLEDORE: 1 by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE IVORY GATE; THRENODY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE HEART'S PICTURES by HIRAM H. BICE ON THE DEATH OF REV. LEVI PARSONS by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD AMBITION AND GLORY by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON |