Along the glade was Anna's wont to rove While Henry told his love in many a sigh. But dark on Henry roll'd her brother's eye, They fought, they fell -- her brother and her love! To her cold grave did woe-worn Anna haste, Yet here her pensive ghost delights to stray: Oft pouring on the winds a broken lay -- And hark, I hear her -- 'twas the passing blast. I love to sit upon her tomb's dank grass, There Memory backward rolls Time's shadowy tide; The forms of other days before me glide: With eager thought I seize them as they pass; For fair, tho' faint, the forms of Memory gleam, Like Heaven's bright bow reflected on the stream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DEAD HARVEST (IN KENSINGTON GARDENS) by ALICE MEYNELL SPANISH SPRING by JEAN D. ARMSTRONG MY HEART WAS ANCE by ROBERT BURNS RICKSHA BOY by IDA HOYT CHAMBERLAIN THE SEA-PLANE by HENRY CHAPPELL ODE UPON OCCASION OF A COPY OF VERSES OF MY LORD BROGHILL'S by ABRAHAM COWLEY |