If I am slow forgetting, It is because the sun Has such old tricks of setting When April days are done. The soft spring sunlight traces Old patterns -- green and gold; The flowers have no new faces, The very buds are old! If I am slow forgetting -- Ah, well, come back and see The same old sunbeams petting My garden-plots and me. Come smell the green things growing, The boxwood after rain; See where old beds are showing Their slender spears again. At dusk, that fosters dreaming -- Come back at dusk and rest, And watch our old star gleaming Against the primrose west. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LEAVES OF THE TREE HIDE THE SUN by DAVID IGNATOW SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: OAKS TUTT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOW TO GET ON IN SOCIETY by JOHN BETJEMAN WE PARTED IN SILENCE by JULIA CRAWFORD THE PRIVATE OF THE BUFFS; OR, THE BRITISH SOLDIER IN CHINA by FRANCIS HASTINGS CHARLES DOYLE WRINKLES by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE COURTSHIP OF THE YONGHY-BONGHY-BO by EDWARD LEAR |