O BLITHE and bonny! when woods are green, And winds breathe soft and low, To sit beneath the budding Thorn, With lilting hearts aglow. Thus, in the morning of our life, We sing of Hope and Love, With quest and chivalry before And halcyon skies above. But when the woods are sere and brown, The land in furrows laid, How soon the Spring-tide is forgot! How soon the Hawthorn shade! So, in the evening of our days, When the light dies down within, We reck not of the wild, wild rose And the lanes we loiter'd in! We wander in a world distraught And ban the biting East, Forgetful that the sap will rise To spread a richer feast. Ah, but the feast is not the same! Those half-averted eyes Will fill with tears of vain regret As other Springs arise. The Autumn now holds more of Hope,— Hope at her heart doth sing,— Our eyes once more are forward bent Unto no earthly Spring! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: FLETCHER MCGEE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SISTER MARIA CELESTE, GALILEO'S DAUGHTER, WRITES TO FRIEND by MADELINE DEFREES LA NOCHE TRISTE by ROBERT FROST TO JOHN BROWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO THE MEMORY OF INEZ MILHOLLAND by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ON CARPACCIO'S PICTURE: THE DREAM OF ST. URSALA; SONNET by AMY LOWELL |