THE sorrel lifts her snow-white bloom From green leaves soft and sour, The wryneck bids the cuckoo come, The wych-elm's all in flower; That tweet! tweet! tweet! that dusty dew, That white star at my feet, They speak of Aprils past -- and you, My sweet! Our wood still curves against the sky, And still, all stark and dim, Our hornbeam's fluted branches lie Along the shining rim; But ah! within its base of moss The rabbits leap and peer, No footsteps fright them as they cross -- This year. When winter shared my hapless plight, I bound my heart in frost; There was no wealth to vex my sight With treasure it had lost; But oh! the buds, the scent, the song, The agonising blue -- They teach my hopeless heart to long For you! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WANDERINGS OF OISIN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS IN THE TWILIGHT by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL BY WAY OF EXPLANATION by VIRGINIA A. ALLIN THE WATER CROWVOOT by WILLIAM BARNES THE PUPPETS by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER A DIALOGUE BETWEEN HOM-VEG AND BALLURE'S RIVER by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |