FROM the outskirts of the town, Where of old the mile-stone stood, Now a stranger, looking down I behold the shadowy crown Of the dark and haunted wood. Is it changed, or am I changed? Ah! the oaks are fresh and green, But the friends with whom I ranged Through their thickets are estranged By the years that intervene. Bright as ever flows the sea, Bright as ever shines the sun, But alas! they seem to me Not the sun that used to be, Not the tides that used to run. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE EVENING STAR by WILLIAM BLAKE A STORM IN THE DISTANCE (AMONG THE GEORGIAN HILLS) by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE BROWNING AT ASOLO by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON HOUSEHOLD POEMS: 1. BRONWEN by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS CAELIA: SONNETS: 5 by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |