Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


AN IRISH WILD-FLOWER by SARAH MORGAN BRYAN PIATT

Poet Analysis

First Line: SHE FELT, I THINK, BUT AS A WILD-FLOWER CAN
Last Line: WHERE YOU HAVE FALLEN -- IS THIS THE THING THAT GROWS?

(A BAREFOOT CHILD BY -- CASTLE)

SHE felt, I think, but as a wild-flower can,
Through her bright fluttering rags, the dark, the cold.
Some farthest star, remembering what man
Forgets, had warmed her little head with gold.

Above her, hollow-eyed, long blind to tears,
Leaf-cloaked, a skeleton of stone arose....
O castle-shadow of a thousand years,
Where you have fallen -- is this the thing that grows?



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