If we took the old path In the old field The same gate would stand there That will never yield. Where the sun warmed us With a cloak made of gold, The rain would be falling And the wind would be cold; And we would stop to search In the wind and the rain, But we would not find the stargrass By the path again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWO IN THE CAMPAGNA by ROBERT BROWNING QUA CURSUM VENTUS by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH THE MEDAL; A SATIRE AGAINST SEDITION by JOHN DRYDEN EIGHT O'CLOCK by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN LAMENT OF THE FRONTIER GUARD by LI PO THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 54. LOVE'S FATALITY by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |