I yearn with the weariness of my life, laid waste and lost in the woods the zephyr sways. I yearn with the dreariness of my undirected days in the tufted forest's shade. There to groan in my happiness, there I feel that I am lost. All is tuned to my weariness. I say it. Joy doth brood for me in the tufted wood that by no path is crossed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BALLADE MADE FOR HIS MOTHER THAT SHE MIGHTE PRAYE by FRANCOIS VILLON CHILDE ROLAND TO THE DARK TOWER CAME' by ROBERT BROWNING THE BOSTON EVENING TRANSCRIPT by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT THE SLAVE AUCTION by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER CLOTHES DO BUT CHEAT AND COZEN US by ROBERT HERRICK EPICOENE; OR, THE SILENT WOMAN: FREEDOM IN DRESS by BEN JONSON |