THROUGH wisps of smoke swift, backward-fleeting scenes A searching gladness bring— The bare brown fields and shivering woods forlorn, Waiting for life, and spring! With glad, awakened eyes I see in these A bond of kinship new; So lay my soul, a frozen, voiceless thing, Waiting the lips of you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HEALALL by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE BOOK OF THEL by WILLIAM BLAKE SONGS FOR MY MOTHER: 3. HER WORDS by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH A POET'S EPITAPH by EBENEZER ELLIOTT A DEDICATION by ALFRED TENNYSON THE BUOY-BELL by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER |