Wild thing the wind is, A bird in its bosom; Fire is a banner And thunder a stay; But a heart's full leaning Is to faithless lover, @3For the heart has a way@1 ... Life and her wisdom Etchings of silver— Ravish an altar Cold, on the breast; Wind, fire and shadow Bleed in a flagon— @3The heart knows best.@1 Blown bird nesting— Cry in the darkness; Waiting the flaming Of outcast desire; Waiting the bruising Of ash, and the purple Rage of the fire. Crush the grapes madly, Lips stain darkly! (Still lies the bird note On wind's curved breast.) Empty the flagon, . . Its ripe wine bleeding: @3The heart knows best.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DAWN BEHIND NIGHT by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE BOATMAN OF KINSALE by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS SONNET: ON A FAMILY PICTURE by THOMAS EDWARDS BIRTHDAY OF DANIEL WEBSTER by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES HERE LIES A LADY by JOHN CROWE RANSOM MORE WALKS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |