Once more the woods grow crimson, Once more the year burns down, Once more my feet come home To the little seaboard town. Once more I learn desire Prevails but to endure, And the heart springs to meet Your hand-touch -- and be sure. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POPPY-LAND EXPRESS by EDGAR WADE ABBOT THE VILLAIN by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE HOUR OF DEATH by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE LOW-BACKED CAR by SAMUEL LOVER THE DAY OF JUDGEMENT; AN ODE ATTEMPTED IN ENGLISH SAPPHIC by ISAAC WATTS |