Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, IN SORROW'S HOUR, by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

IN SORROW'S HOUR, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: The brambles blow without you, - at the door
Last Line: Oh, that you were but here with me again!
Subject(s): Grief; Sorrow; Sadness


THE brambles blow without you, -- at the door
They make late April, -- and the brier too
Buds its pale rose for other folk than you;
In the deep grass the gentian too once more
Heaps its sweet snow; and the keen marigold
With its small fire sets the walled walks aflare.
Like flakes of flame blown down the gray, still air,
The cardinal-flower is out in thickets old.
Oh, love! oh, love! what road is yours to-day?
For I would follow after, see your face,
Put my hand in your hand, feel the dear grace
Of hair, mouth, eyes, hear the brave words you say.
The dark is void, and all the daylight vain.
Oh, that you were but here with me again!






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