It nods and curtseys and recovers When the wind blows above, The nettle on the graves of lovers That hanged themselves for love. The nettle nods, the wind blows over, The man, he does not move, The lover of the grave, the lover That hanged himself for love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAUCERS WORDES UNTO ADAM, HIS OWN SCRIVEYN by GEOFFREY CHAUCER TO YOUTH by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR COMPENSATION by MARION L. BERTRAND PSALM 96 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE TIME'S HAND IS KIND by MARGARET E. BRUNER HASTINGS' SONNETS: 8 by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES THE WORLD I AM PASSING THROUGH by LYDIA MARIA CHILD |