SWEET violet, who knows From whence thy fragrance flows Or whither hence it goes? A pious pilgrim here To Winter's sepulchre Thou comest year by year Alert with balmier store Than Magdalen of yore To Love's anointing bore. Methinks that thou hast been So oft the go-between 'Twixt sight and things unseen That with thy wafted breath Alternate echoeth Each bank of sundering Death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MAPLE AND SUMACH by CECIL DAY LEWIS THE LARK ASCENDING by GEORGE MEREDITH TO THE UNKNOWN EROS: BOOK 1: 10. THE TOYS by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE TO A BLOCKHEAD by ALEXANDER POPE THE INDIAN SERENADE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY IDYLLS OF THE KING: THE COMING OF ARTHUR by ALFRED TENNYSON THE ANNOYER by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS THAT GENERAL UTILITY RAG, BY OUR OWN IRVING BERLIN by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |