Golden pulse grew on the shore, Ferns along the hill, And the red cliff roses bore Bees to drink their fill; Bees that from the meadows bring Wine of melilot, Honey-sups on golden wing To the garden grot. But to me, neglected flower, Phaon will not see, Passion brings no crowning hour, Honey nor the bee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VARIATIONS: 17 by CONRAD AIKEN CONTRA MORTEM: THE WATER by HAYDEN CARRUTH ON BEING ASKED TO WRITE A POEM AGAINST THE WAR IN VIETNAM by HAYDEN CARRUTH SONGS FOR TWO SEASONS: 1. AFTER GRAVE ILLNESS by CAROL FROST A MAN'S VOCATION IS NOBODY'S BUSINESS by JAMES GALVIN FOR REMEMBERING HOW TO LIVE WITHOUT YOU by JAMES GALVIN |