WE had been long in mountain snow, In valleys bleak, and broad, and bare, Where only moss and willows grow, And no bird wings the silent air. And so, when on our downward way Wild roses met us, we were glad: They were so girlish fair, so gay, It seemed the sun had made them mad. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SARAH'S MONSTERS by KAREN SWENSON A LITTLE CHRISTMAS BASKET by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE BOUGH OF NONSENSE by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES ON A SOLDIER FALLEN IN THE PHILIPPINES by WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY THE MESSIAH by MABEL WARREN ARNOLD WINTER BURIAL by HENRY BELLAMANN |