THE white winter sun struck its stroke on the bridge, The meadow-rills rippled and gleamed As I left the thatched post-office, just by the ridge, And dropped in my pocket her long tender letter, With: "This must be snapped! it is more than it seemed; And now is the opportune time!" But against what I willed worked the surging sublime Of the thing that I did -- the thing better! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SOMETIMES WITH ONE I LOVE by WALT WHITMAN TARQUIN AND THE AUGUR by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE LUMINOUS HANDS OF GOD by ELEANOR WARFIELD KENLY BACON ANYWHERE OUT OF THE WORLD by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE UNCLE SIMON AND UNCLE JIM by CHARLES FARRAR BROWNE TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. THE PLOUGHBOY by EDWARD CARPENTER |