THE olives where we walk to-day In the olive-groves are white and grey, And underneath the shimmering trees One almond-bough is faintly pink, And lilac blow the anemones. In all the flowers, in all the leaves, The secret of their pallor heaves: A tender hint of vanished bliss. A rapture just beyond the brink Of feeling, which we still must miss. Perhaps when we are dead, my dear, Our phantoms still shall wander here, And breathe in this Elysian wood (As others breathe for us, I think), A beauty dimly understood. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VICTORY IN DEFEAT by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EDITH CONANT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS GETTING A PURCHASE by KAREN SWENSON COUNTRY SUMMER by LEONIE ADAMS DORA VERSUS ROSE by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON ON HEARING OF INTENTION .. TO PURCHASE THE POET'S FREEDOM by GEORGE MOSES HORTON PEACE ON EARTH by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS |