SWEET eyes, sweet eyes, that now be in the dust, When you I had, the May was May in truth! The round world wore its white as youth did youth, Sweet eyes, sweet eyes, that now be in the dust! Of its old music is the wind's throat bare; June is not June; the rose hath lost its red, The pink its spice; the hollyhock is dead; There are no lilies blowing anywhere -- And yet, I came upon a grave to-day, By a church door, and there a thorn-bush stood, Astir with bees, abrim with blossoms gay, The one fair thing of field and hedge and wood. You lay beneath, sweet eyes, sweet eyes and true, And it was fair because, because of you! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN A LIBRARY by EMILY DICKINSON THE MORAL FABLES: THE FOX, THE WOLF, AND THE CADGER by AESOP THE IMAGE OF GOD by FRANCISCO DE ALDANA AT STRATFORD-ON-AVON by H. T. MACKENZIE BELL THE DAWN PATROL by PAUL BEWSHER ON A CORNELIAN HEART WHICH WAS BROKEN by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |