YOU say a thousand things, Persuasively, And with strange passion hotly I agree, And praise your zest, And then A blackbird sings On April lilac, or fieldfaring men, Ghostlike, with loaded wain, Come down the twilit lane To rest, And what is all your argument to me? Oh, yes -- I know, I know, It must be so -- You must devise Your myriad policies, For we are little wise, And must be led and marshalled, lest we keep Too fast a sleep Far from the central world's realities. Yes, we must heed -- For surely you reveal Life's very heart; surely with flaming zeal You search our folly and our secret need; And surely it is wrong To count my blackbird's song, My cones of lilac, and my wagon team, More than a world of dream. But still A voice calls from the hill -- I must away -- I cannot hear your argument to-day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WE WEAR THE MASK by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR DEATH OF STONEWALL JACKSON by HENRY LYNDEN FLASH AFTER A LECTURE ON KEATS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES A SHORT SONG OF CONGRATULATION by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) DUNCAN WEIR by ALEXANDER ANDERSON ON A BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |