A fine young man on horseback waves his whip at the willows he can't imagine death he builds no boat or ladder the seasonal flowers are lovely until the day they wither and fade rock sugar and clarified butter mean nothing when you're dead | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EVENING IN A SUGAR ORCHARD by ROBERT FROST THE GOODLY SONG by PAUL VERLAINE THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 72. THE CHOICE (2) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI A DRINKING SONG by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS SONNET: HER WORST AND BEST by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |