I never met the Spring alone before: The flowers, birds, the loveliness of trees, For with me always there was one I love -- And love is shield against such gifts as these. But now I am alone, alone, alone; The days and nights one long remembering. Did other Aprils that we shared possess The hurting beauty of this living Spring? I never met the Spring alone before -- My starving grief -- this radiance of gold!... To be alone, when Spring is being born, One should be dead -- or suddenly grown old. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRELUDES: 1-4 (COMPLETE) by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT LILIES: 8 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) EPITAPH ON MR. VAUX, THE PHYSICIAN by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) SELFISHNESS by MARGARET E. BRUNER |