In Merioneth, over the sad moor Drives the rain, the cold wind blows: Past the ruinous church door, The poor procession without music goes. Lonely she wandered out her hour, and died. Now the mournful curlew cries Over her, laid down beside Death's lonely people: lightly down she lies. In Merioneth, the winds lives and wails, On from hill to lonely hill: Down the loud, triumphant gales, A spirit cries Be strong! and cries Be still! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HIS CONTENT IN THE COUNTRY by ROBERT HERRICK FELIX OPPORTUNITATE MORTIS by ALFRED AUSTIN THE PATH by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT WASHER-WOMAN by CONSTANCE CRANE TEMPTATION by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THEN AND NOW by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR CHANNEL SUNSET by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER BALLADE OF FORGOTTEN LOVES by ARTHUR GRISSOM LINES SPOKEN BY MISS ADA REHAN AT THE LYCEUM THEATER by THOMAS HARDY |