I cannot nurse an ancient grief When overhead a bird is calling, When down the wind a golden leaf Is gaily fluttering and falling. Pale wraiths of buried wrongs slip by, Lost in the shadows of the past, When great cloud-ships are riding high -- Flame sails aglow, from every mast. I cannot stay where love lies riven And hate his score is reckoning, When, high against a turquoise heaven, Enchanting hills are beckoning. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VILLANELLE OF CITY AND COUNTRY by ZOE AKINS A SCHOOL ECLOGUE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A WEATHER PROPHET by JANE BARLOW THE PHILOSOPHER by BERTON BRALEY WHEN WE ARE ALL ASLEEP by ROBERT WILLIAMS BUCHANAN FUNERAL MASS: REQUIEM by BORIS NIKOLAYEVICH BUGAYEV A CHILD'S WISDOM by ALICE CARY |