WHEN you are lonely, full of care, Or sad with some new sorrow, And when your tired fancy hides The brightness of the morrow, Ah, turn your footsteps to the woods And meadows, where the rills, Are quietly flowing, when the moon And stars shine on the hills. Upon your brow the great wise trees Will breathe, and something sweet Will reach you from the fragrant grass You press beneath your feet, And a fair spirit of the fields, Peaceful and happy-eyed, Will find a way into your heart, I think, and there abide. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE JOY OF WRITING by WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA THE DIVINE IMAGE, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE SONG OF THE RABBITS OUTSIDE THE TAVERN by ELIZABETH JANE COATSWORTH THE YOUNG HOUSEWIFE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS |