AND only where the forest fires have sped, Scorching relentlessly the cool north lands, A sweet wild flower lifts its purple head, And, like some gentle spirit sorrow-fed, It hides the scars with almost human hands. And only to the heart that knows of grief, Of desolating fire, of human pain, There comes some purifying sweet belief, Some fellow-feeling beautiful, if brief. And life revives, and blossoms once again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE STATE OF WYOMING by KAREN SWENSON WRITTEN FOR MY SON, AND SPOKEN BY HIM AT HIS FIRST PUTTING ON BREECHES by MARY BARBER A TOCCATA OF GALUPPI'S by ROBERT BROWNING A WARRIOR'S PRAYER by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR ON A CURATE'S COMPLAINT OF HARD DUTY by JONATHAN SWIFT LILIES: 18. A PICTURE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |