AND yet it is a wasted heart: It is a wasted mind That seeks not in the inner world Its happiness to find; For happiness is like the bird That broods above its nest, And finds beneath its folded wings, Life's dearest, and its best. A little space is all that hope Or love can ever take; The wider that the circle spreads, The sooner it will break. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FIDDLING WOOD by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET WORDS IN A CERTAIN APPROPRIATE MODE by HAYDEN CARRUTH PENDULUM by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO THE MEMORY OF INEZ MILHOLLAND by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |