The king of rivers has a dolorous shore, A dreamful dominion of cypress-trees, A gray bird rising forever more, And drifting away toward the Mexican seas -- A lone bird seeking for some lost mate, So dolorous, lorn and desolate. The shores are gray as the sands are gray; And gray are the trees in their cloaks of moss; -- That gray bird rising and drifting away, Slow dragging its weary long legs across -- So weary, just over the gray wood's brink; It wearies one, body and soul to think. These vast gray levels of cypress wood, The gray soldiers' graves; and so, God's will -- These cypress-trees' roots are still running blood; The smoke of battle in their mosses still -- That gray bird wearily drifting away Was startled some long-since battle day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GETTING A PURCHASE by KAREN SWENSON POETASTER: SONG (4) by BEN JONSON LET NO CHARITABLE HOPE by ELINOR WYLIE TIPPERARY: 4. BY OUR OWN A. E. HOUSMAN by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS DRESSING THE BRIDE (A FRAGMENT) by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |