He could not tell the way he came, Because his chart was lost: Yet all his way was paved with flame From the bourne he crossed. He did not know the way to go, Because he had no map: He followed where the winds blow, — And the April sap. He never knew upon his brow The secret that he bore, — And laughs away the mystery now The dark's at his door. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PORTENT by HERMAN MELVILLE THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 86. LOST DAYS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE LAND OF NOD by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE RIGHT MARY by CLARIBEL WEEKS AVERY EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 4. THE TIMOROUS ADVENTURER by PHILIP AYRES RECOLLECTIONS by BERNARD BARTON PSALM 67 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE A MOTHER'S LAMENT [FOR THE DEATH OF HER SON] by ROBERT BURNS |