Somewhere the tree is growing That will be my bed: Cold white wood against cold white flesh, And the last prayer said. Sometime we'll creep together, And our dust, as one, Will talk deep things with the gossiping rain And the curious sun. But today the tree is singing, Pregnant with bursting flower, And glad in the dawn and starlight I live my hour. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LUCASIA, ROSANIA, AND ORINDA PARTING AT A FOUNTAIN by KATHERINE PHILIPS ON HEARING THAT THE STUDENTS OF OUR NEW UNIVERSITY JOINED AGITATION .. by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 29. AL-HAKIM by EDWIN ARNOLD |