In the place where the grizzly reposes, Under peaks where a right is a wrong, I have memories richer than roses, Sweet echoes more sweet than a song; Sounds sweet as the voice of a singer Made sacred with sorrows unsaid, And a love that implores me to linger For the love of dead days and their dead. But I turn, throwing kisses, returning To strife and to turbulent men, As to learn to be wise, as unlearning All things that were manliest then. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VENUS IN A GARDEN by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SHE WEEPS OVER RAHOON by JAMES JOYCE THE FUN HOUSE FABLE by KAREN SWENSON IN HOSPITAL: 2. WAITING by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY THE NILE by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT WORDLY WISE (10) by MOTHER GOOSE |