But unto him came swift calamity In the sweet springtime when his beds were green; And my heart waited, trustfully serene, For the new blossom on my household tree. But flowers and gods and quaint philosophy Are poor, in truth, to fill the empty place; Nor any joy nor season's jollity Can aught indeed avail to grace our grief. Can spring return to him a brother's face, Or bring my darling back to me--to me? Undimmed the May went on with bird and bower; The summer filled and faded like a flower; But rainy autumn and the red-turned leaf Found us at tears and wept for company. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEA GYPSY [OR GIPSY] by RICHARD HOVEY THE FIRST SNOWFALL by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL VERSES ON SEEING THE SPEAKER ASLEEP IN HIS CHAIR by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED THE LOST WAR-SLOOP by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR THE LAMPLIGHTER by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE LOST CHILD by ST. CLAIR ADAMS |