DAYS of old, Ye are not dead, though gone from me; Ye are not cold, But like the summer-birds fled o'er some sea The sun brings back the swallows fast O'er the sea; When he cometh at the last, The days of old come back to me | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMN: FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY: 2 by REGINALD HEBER THE SPIDER AND THE FLY by MARY HOWITT SHE CAME AND WENT by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL LINES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH ETERNITY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |