ON such a day of quiet rain When all the air was gray and sweet With unseen flowers, and Spring's dear pain Of longing in her pulses beat SHE may have stood with arms outspread Among the box-trees dripping spice, And listened for his coming tread As for the harps of Paradise. WE sigh for him whom God's red spur Drove glorious up the heights of tears, -- But in the valley, what of her, And her long aching outgrown years? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO THE NIGHTINGALE by JOHN MILTON STELLA'S BIRTHDAY, 1725 by JONATHAN SWIFT THIS IS NOT I by FRANCES DAVIS ADAMS THE RHYME OF SIR LAUNCELOT BOGLE; A LEGEND OF GLASGOW by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN APPLE-BLOSSOM by MATHILDE BLIND MATCHIT MOODUS by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD MASQUE AT THE MARRIAGE OF THE EARL OF SOMERSET: MASQUERS FIRST DANCE by THOMAS CAMPION |