Sometimes, when sunshine and blue sky prevail -- When spent winds sleep, and, from the budding larch, Small birds, with incomplete, vague sweetness, hail The unconfirmed, yet quickening life of March, -- Then say I to myself, half-eased of care, Toying with hope as with a maiden's token, -- "This glorious, invisible fresh air Will clear my blood till the disease be broken." But slowly, from the wild and infinite west, Up-sails a cloud, full-charged with bitter sleet. The omen gives my spirit deep unrest; I fling aside the hope, as indiscreet, -- A false enchantment, treacherous and fair, -- And sink into my habit of despair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GRAND ARMY PLAZA by KAREN SWENSON A BOOK OF AIRS SONG 18 by THOMAS CAMPION THE CASTAWAY by WILLIAM COWPER PRAYER OF A SOLDIER IN FRANCE by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF MY UNCLE ARLY by EDWARD LEAR UPON THE LATE LAMENTABLE ACCIDENT OF FIRE ... by JOHN ALLISON (1645-1683) |