CROSSING the river I pluck hibiscus-flowers: In the orchid-swamps are many fragrant herbs. I gather them, but who shall I send them to? My love is living in lands far away. I turn and look towards my own country: The long road stretches on for ever. The same heart, yet a different dwelling: Always fretting, till we are grown old! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SISTER LOU by STERLING ALLEN BROWN THE HERONS OF ELMWOOD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE LADY POVERTY by ALICE MEYNELL THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE AT [OR AFTER] CORUNNA by CHARLES WOLFE THE SOLITARY REAPER by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |