The specialities of that dark hour of grief On my retentive heart have prest their seal; Yes! I remember even the spider's wheel, Which stretched and lightened on the gusty leaf Of that wild August morn! The blasts were driven Across the new-mown fields, fitful and brief, And tossed the tresses of the barley-sheaf, And rode the streaming willow into Heaven: The features of the tempest, all and each, I still recall, and shall thy ruthful gaze Not be remembered? nor those winning ways Which brought my soul within thy pity's reach? I keep the natural impress of the hour, And shall thy loving kindness have less power? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CEMETERY BY THE SEA by PAUL VALERY THE CENSUS-TAKER by ROBERT FROST THE MOUSE'S PETITION TO DOCTOR PRIESTLY FOUND IN THE TRAP .. by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD ARCADIA: SESTINA by PHILIP SIDNEY CAFE TORTONI ('81) by WILLIAM ROSE BENET TO FRANCIS JAMMES by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE GIFT by MARGARET E. BRUNER THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: CHANGE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. A VILLAGE CHURCH by EDWARD CARPENTER |