Sweet, And delicate, And rare, At the end Of a wind-blown fragrant bough, The apple swings! If I, Who fly no more, Had wings! Or if My wizardry Knew how! I'd wing To where that sweetness swings, -- At the end of the bough! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUNSET AND SUNRISE by EMILY DICKINSON DEATH STANDS ABOVE ME by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR SONG (10) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI LINES WRITTEN ON HEARING THE NEWS OF THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY SEEING A STRANGE WOMAN DEAD by A. G. BECKMANN THE EMIGRANT LASSIE by JOHN STUART BLACKIE CAELI by FRANCIS WILLIAM BOURDILLON TO A NEW YORK SHOP-GIRL DRESSED FOR SUNDAY by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |