THANKFUL was I to be there This February morning, And watch the hill-wood giving Her bosom to the sun, And life come to the living, And winter sleeping. And such thoughts came to me there This February morning, Of cypress nightlong sighing Over beloved heads Now senseless, unreplying To love's low whisper. Humbled was I to be there This February morning. These men my friends were folding Thin-knotted, nerveless hands, While my firm hand was holding First buds of willow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TIMES GO BY TURNS by ROBERT SOUTHWELL TO HARTLEY COLERIDGE; SIX YEARS OLD by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 18. TO THE HON. FRANCIS EARL OF HUNTINGDON by MARK AKENSIDE THE GOLDEN YEAR! by ALFRED AUSTIN SONNET ON PIETRO REGGIO HIS SETTING TO MUSIC MR. COWLEY'S POEMS by PHILIP AYRES THE TULIP AND THE LILY, SELECTION by JAMES BARCLAY |