I stood within the old wood,—and all the past Swept through my spirit on wild storm-tossed wings:— The past with all its pain and all its stings And small sour fruit and endless yearning vast. Upon white tides of woe my thought was cast, 'Mid shoals round which the hoarse sea-whisper rings: I was immersed in floods of former things, And my brow ached at strokes of passion's blast. And then I looked, and lo! a flower asleep,— The plant whose plumes I gathered long ago To mix them in a girl's locks soft and deep. Through seasons of fierce sun and months of snow, While I full many a maddening watch did keep, It had done nought but bloom, and fade and blow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG OF THE BOW, FR. THE WHITE COMPANY by ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE OLD IRONSIDES by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES THE ROSARY by ROBERT CAMERON ROGERS NEW HEAVEN, NEW WAR by ROBERT SOUTHWELL BOX-CAR LETTERS by KARLE WILSON BAKER |