Once more the woods grow crimson, Once more the year burns down, Once more my feet come home To the little seaboard town. Once more I learn desire Prevails but to endure, And the heart springs to meet Your hand-touch -- and be sure. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PORTRAIT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE LOVER TO THE THAMES OF LONDON TO FAVOUR HIS LADY ... by GEORGE TURBERVILLE THE TWO TREES by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TO ONE WHO ASKS by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS AUSTERITY OF POETRY by MATTHEW ARNOLD A LETTER by PHILIP JAMES BAILEY |