AND yet it is a wasted heart: It is a wasted mind That seeks not in the inner world Its happiness to find; For happiness is like the bird That broods above its nest, And finds beneath its folded wings, Life's dearest, and its best. A little space is all that hope Or love can ever take; The wider that the circle spreads, The sooner it will break. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INSCRIPTION FOR THE ENTRANCE TO A WOOD by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE FOREFATHER by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON EACH IN HIS OWN TONGUE by WILLIAM HERBERT CARRUTH HENRY PURCELL by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS TO JOHN DONNE (2) by BEN JONSON |