"@2S@1EVERN, I feel the flowers o'er me grow." They grow, loved boy,—the daisies drenched with dew, Pale sentries of the Sleep that silenced you; And violets, that the poet-password know— Your soul to theirs gave whisper long ago: In all that Roman garden none with hue More bright; and many a clovered avenue, Sweet flower-forests waving to and fro. And every plant in that so holy place Yearns to your lyréd grave, and all that earth Bears wheresoever into blossoming; And every seed of honour, ruth, and grace Quickens when buried there, and comes to birth, Greening above you in eternal Spring. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHERRY BLOSSOMS BLOWING IN WEST BLOWING SNOW by JAMES GALVIN FOR A' THAT AND A' THAT; SONG by ROBERT BURNS DOROTHY'S DOWER by PHOEBE CARY THE ENTHUSIAST, OR, THE LOVER OF NATURE by JOSEPH WARTON ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 9. TO CURIO by MARK AKENSIDE LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 10. THE FAIR by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM |