THE old bridge has a wrinkled face. He bends his back For us to go over. He moans and weeps But we do not hear. Sorrow stands in his face For the heavy weight and worry Of people passing. The trees drop their leaves into the water; The sky nods to him. The leaves float down like small ships On the blue surface Which is the sky. He is not always sad: He smiles to see the ships go down And the little children Playing on the river banks. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRINGTIME by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SOMETHING CHILDISH, BUT VERY NATURAL; WRITTEN IN GERMANY by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE OLD SUSAN by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE SEVEN TIMES SEVEN [- LONGING FOR HOME] by JEAN INGELOW RICHARD CORY by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE SCHOLARS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |