The wild white geese fly over With strange and eerie cry, And seem but dream shapes ghostly Against a windy sky. My thoughts go backward faring To long and long ago, And all youth's dreams are phantoms That now I scarcely know. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CANDLE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT by ANNE BRADSTREET ON VISITING THE TOMB OF BURNS by JOHN KEATS THE MILKING-MAID by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 5. ETERNAL by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE RUBY THROAT by RUTH BUTLER BROWN |