Along the glade was Anna's wont to rove While Henry told his love in many a sigh. But dark on Henry roll'd her brother's eye, They fought, they fell -- her brother and her love! To her cold grave did woe-worn Anna haste, Yet here her pensive ghost delights to stray: Oft pouring on the winds a broken lay -- And hark, I hear her -- 'twas the passing blast. I love to sit upon her tomb's dank grass, There Memory backward rolls Time's shadowy tide; The forms of other days before me glide: With eager thought I seize them as they pass; For fair, tho' faint, the forms of Memory gleam, Like Heaven's bright bow reflected on the stream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BIRCH STREAM by ANNA BOYNTON AVERILL TO THE PLIOCENE SKULL by FRANCIS BRET HARTE ON IMAGINATION by PHILLIS WHEATLEY MAPLE LEAVES by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THINK-ABOUTS by DAISY MAUD BELLIS THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 25, ASKING FOR HER HEART (3) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |