Once, when I wandered in the woods alone, An old man tottered up to me and said, "Come, friend, and see the grave that I have made For Amaryllis." There was in the tome Of his complaint such quaver and such moan That I took pity on him and obeyed, And long stood looking where hands had laid An ancient woman, shrunk to skin and bone. Far our beyond the forest I could hear The calling of loud progress, and the bold Incessant scream of commerce ringing clear; But though the trumpets of the world were glad, It made me lonely and it made me sad To think that Amaryllis had grown old. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE STOLEN CHILD by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS SONG, FR. ARTAXERXES (OPERA) by THOMAS AUGUSTINE ARNE A PIPE OF TOBACCO (MR. PHILLIP'S STYLE IMITATED) by ISAAC HAWKINS BROWNE THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: ROOT AND LEAF by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: AUTUMN by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |