We who are left, how shall we look again Happily on the sun or feel the rain Without remembering how they who went Ungrudgingly and spent Their lives for us loved, too, the sun and the rain? A bird among the rain-wet lilac sings— But we, how shall we turn to little things And listen to the birds and winds and streams Made holy by their dreams, Nor feel the heart-break in the heart of things? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THERE IS NO NATURAL RELIGION (A) by WILLIAM BLAKE SUICIDE IN THE TRENCHES by SIEGFRIED SASSOON PERFECTED by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON AUTUMN'S SPLENDOURS by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB EPITAPH ON JOHN BUSHBY, A WRITER by ROBERT BURNS DON JUAN: CANTO 10 by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |