If I could be like the clover, Patient and still; Turning from fevered pleasures, Resigning my will. Folding my hands together Softly in prayer; As clover-leaves are folded From evening air. Then I might weave a poem On mystic loom, Delicate, fresh and simple As clover bloom. If I could sweep me bare With God's great broom . . . | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CEREMONIES FOR CHRISTMAS (1) by ROBERT HERRICK BALLADE OF BROKEN FLUTES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON DOG AND CAT by RUTH ANDERSON BARNETT THE LAST MAN: ANTICIPATION OF EVIL TIDINGS by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES NEWSTEAD ABBEY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE REEVE'S PROLOGUE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER SONNETS ON EMINENT CHARACTERS: 10. TO ROBERT SOUTHEY by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |