How many million Aprils came Before I ever knew How white a cherry bough could be, A bed of squills, how blue. And many a dancing April When life is done with me, Will lift the blue flame of the flower And the white flame of the tree. Oh, burn me with your beauty, then, Oh, hurt me, tree and flower, Lest in the end death try to take Even this glistening hour. O shaken flowers, O shimmering trees, O sunlit white and blue, Wound me, that I through endless sleep May bear the scar of you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH IN THE KITCHEN by THOMAS HOOD THREE MOMENTS IN PARIS: 1. ONE O'CLOCK AT NIGHT by MINA LOY AN ECHO FROM WILLOW-WOOD by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNET: 148 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE DERELICT; A REMINISCENCE OF R.L.S.'S TREASURE ISLAND by YOUNG EWING ALLISON FABLE: 16 by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT |