"Each plays his part and goes his way," Our hearts at seeming distance say; But 'twixt the blossom and the fruit -- The topmost twig and lowest root, Till seed again to seed shall fall -- There lies no languid interval; And soul is life-allied to soul As parts unto the perfect whole. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MAD WOMAN'S SONG by KAREN SWENSON INDIAN SUMMER by SARA TEASDALE MEMORIAL DAY by WILLIAM E. BROOKS THE PILGRIM SHIP by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE DEEPER FRIENDSHIP by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN CROSS-CURRENTS by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |