You are a fragile and exclusive flower, From me apart, behind a greenhouse window; A star suspended in the heavens' bower, So near, and yet so far beyond the rainbow. You are the low, green shore of an island Across a gulf where I cannot be ferried; A cloudlet lingering atop a highland, Upon whose steeps my hopes are dead and buried. You were the object of a hopeless journey ... Along that path my footprints deep have perished; Not to be gained—the way to you too thorny; Not to be held, but always to be cherished. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PILGRIM [SONG], FR. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS by JOHN BUNYAN STANZAS FOR MUSIC (4) by GEORGE GORDON BYRON JABBERWOCKY by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON THE PROPHECY OF SAMUEL SEWALL by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER AUTUMN; WRITTEN IN THE GROUNDS OF MARTIN COLE, ESQ. by BERNARD BARTON |