'Tis time, I think, by Wenlock town The golden broom should blow; The hawthorn sprinkled up and down Should charge the land with snow. Spring will not wait the loiterer's time Who keeps so long away; So others wear the broom and climb The hedgerows heaped with may. Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge, Gold that I never see; Lie long, high snowdrifts in the hedge That will not shower on me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HER EYES TWIN POOLS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON KILLED IN ACTION by ISAAC ROSENBERG SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 32 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE DOG by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES TIME TO BE WISE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR |