Come not the earliest petal here, but only Wind, cloud, and star, Lovely and far, Make it less lonely. Few are the feet that seek her here, but sleeping Thoughts sweet as flowers Linger for hours, Things winged, yet weeping. Here in the immortal empire of the grasses, Time, like one wrong Note in a song, With their bloom, passes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PINE-TREES AND THE SKY: EVENING by RUPERT BROOKE ROBERT OF LINCOLN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT OLNEY HYMNS: 9. THE CONTRITE HEART by WILLIAM COWPER IMAGINATION, FR. A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE NATIONAL ODE; INDEPENDENCE SQUARE, PHILADELPHIA by BAYARD TAYLOR |