THE gloom that breathes upon me with these airs Is like the drops which strike the traveller's brow Who knows not, darkling, if they bring him now Fresh storm, or be old rain the covert bears. Ah! bodes this hour some harvest of new tares, Or hath but memory of the day whose plough Sowed hunger once,--the night at length when thou, O prayer found vain, didst fall from out my prayers? How prickly were the growths which yet how smooth, Along the hedgerows of this journey shed, Lie by Time's grace till night and sleep may soothe! Even as the thistledown from pathsides dead Gleaned by a girl in autumns of her youth, Which one new year makes soft her marriage-bed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SOMETIME by MAY LOUISE RILEY SMITH TO THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE, IN NEW-ENGLAND by PHILLIS WHEATLEY THE CASE OF EDGAR ABBOTT AND PHILIP RIDD by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE CARPENTER by AMY BRUNER ALMY JUNGLE by RICHMOND GEORGE ANTHONY PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 88. AL-MUGHNI by EDWIN ARNOLD |