ON Bellosguardo, when the year was young, We wandered, seeking for the daffodil And dark anemone, whose purples fill The peasant's plot, between the corn-shoots sprung. Over the grey, low wall the olive flung Her deeper greyness ; far off, hill on hill Sloped to the sky, which, pearly-pale and still, Above the large and luminous landscape hung. A snowy blackthorn flowered beyond my reach ; You broke a branch and gave it to me there ; I found for you a scarlet blossom rare. Thereby ran on of Art and Life our speech ; And of the gifts the gods had given to each -- Hope unto you, and unto me Despair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GOLDEN CORPSE by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET AFTER VERLAINE by ANSELM HOLLO RETURN (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |