When the wind was sitting in the long-fingered tree The rain came, and they two wept, Mourning someone beautiful and gone, Though neither spoke her name. I went from the warm house where the panes were trembling, Went to them, one as sad as they: Who knows but what, I thought, such grief as this Is for my own, my lost and beautiful? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INTO BATTLE by JULIAN GRENFELL A CHRISTMAS CAROL (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE BUILDERS OF THE ARK by MARIA ABDY SOIS SAGE O MA DOULEUR by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE WHITE GRASS by ADA BAZZACCHINI |