O server of vain pomp whose every day Creepeth along n dreariness and pain. Come, friend, come, and be happy once again, Come to the woods away! Nor weeping spouse nor mother shall be heard Lamenting here, nor warlike trumpets' blast. But only gentle breezes whispering past And singing of a bird. Here hath the law of love sole power to bind, And free from grief and peril is our life; We dread no tyrant; lo, our utmost strife Winter and the north wind! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HOUSE OF DUST: 1 by CONRAD AIKEN ARCHIMEDES LAST FORAY by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET A WINTER'S NIGHT by ROBERT FROST ON TALK OF PEACE AT THIS TIME by ROBERT FROST I LOOKED FOR LIFE AND DID A SHADOW SEE by JAMES GALVIN ANSWER TO PRAYER by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |