I WISH that when you died last May, Charles, there had died along with you Three parts of spring's delightful things; Ay, and, for me, the fourth part too. A foolish thought, and worse, perhaps! There must be many a pair of friends Who, arm in arm, deserve the warm Moon-births and the long evening-ends. So, for their sake, be May still May! Let their new time, as mine of old, Do all it did for me: I bid Sweet sights and sounds throng manifold. Only, one little sight, one plant, Woods have in May, that starts up green Save a sole streak which, so to speak, Is spring's blood, spilt its leaves between, -- That, they might spare; a certain wood Might miss the plant; their loss were small: But I, -- whene'er the leaf grows there, Its drop comes from my heart, that's all. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TEARS by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 72 by PHILIP SIDNEY A WEATHER PROPHET by JANE BARLOW THE WANDERER by MATHILDE BLIND A NARROW WINDOW by FLORENCE EARLE COATES DOMESTIC PEACE; SONG, FR. THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |