Day after day went by, and still he fed On his own thought, and pined, and grieved the more. And she was told how all his journeyings led Thro' that lone forest to the hermit's door. He could not so lament his old friend dead? And over this new wonder 'gan she pore. Till angerly the woman in her cried, 'Am I not shamed—thus long to be denied?' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PLEDGE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SUGGESTED BY THE COVER OF A VOLUME OF KEATS'S POEMS by AMY LOWELL CHILD OF MY HEART by EDWIN MARKHAM HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 11 by EZRA POUND AUTUMN MOVEMENT by CARL SANDBURG |