ABOUT the oak that framed this chair, of old The seasons danced their round; delighted wings Brought music to its boughs; shy woodland things Shared its broad roof, 'neath whose green glooms grown bold, Lovers, more shy than they, their secret told; The resurrection of a thousand springs Swelled in its veins, and dim imaginings Teased them, perchance, of life more manifold. Such shall it know when its proud arms enclose My Lady Goshawk, musing here at rest, Careless of him who into exile goes, Yet, while his gift by those fair limbs is prest, Through some fine sympathy of nature knows That, seas between us, she is still his guest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEEDS OF VALOR AT SANTIAGO by CLINTON SCOLLARD THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION; A POEM. ENLARGED VERSION: BOOK 3 by MARK AKENSIDE A SONNET. ON THE DEATH OF SYLVIA by PHILIP AYRES LINES ON REVISITING CATHCART by THOMAS CAMPBELL OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 28 by THOMAS CAMPION THE CHIEF WITNESS by GEORGE HERBERT CLARKE WAR IS KIND: 17 by STEPHEN CRANE |