This path lads to the laurel, And that, winds to the burn: Hemlocks, pines, and birches, Know the one that I turn. It is wet in the woods to-day,— And perhaps, the sun to-morrow, Shall weave its gold, while away I will be alone with sorrow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THOSE EVENING BELLS by THOMAS MOORE SONG TO THE MEN OF ENGLAND by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE PALACE OF ART by ALFRED TENNYSON BENEDICITE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER SONG OF THE FATHERLAND by ERNST MORITZ ARNDT INFLUENCE by BELLE BEARDEN BARRY |