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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE HAWTHORN TREE IN YORK LANE, by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: The thought of it comes to my mind Last Line: Brimful of sussex airs. Subject(s): Hawthorn | |||
THE thought of it comes to my mind, As through the town I go, And all the houses slip behind To let my hawthorn blow. The little lads troop through the grass To fill their hands with bloom; A single petal in a glass Makes Sussex in a room. Kinless and strange on the road's edge, Such art its blossoms hold, The sprawling fence becomes a hedge, The new world is the old. Who walks at dusk in green York Lane, A certain week of May, Hears music pour and pour again Down that enchanted way. He knows the nightingale is out, Singing in the old wise; While white as morning all about, A hundred thorn-trees rise. There in York Lane it blows and blows; And I am stripped of cares; One thought of it, and the town grows Brimful of Sussex airs. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MAY FLOWER; INSCRIBED TO A VERY DEAR FRIEND by JANET HAMILTON A MERRY BALLAD OF THE HAWTHORN TREE by GEORGE PEELE OLD SAUL by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE TO THE HAWTHORN-TREE by PIERRE DE RONSARD HAWTHORN DYKE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE WHITE HAWTHORN by ELEANOR GLENN WALLIS HAWTHORN TREE by WILLA SIBERT CATHER A CHRISTMAS FOLK-SONG by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE |
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