HEAVY with cares no winnowing hand could sift, Wrapt in a sadness never to be told, As o'er the fields and through the woods I strolled, Following with restless footstep but the drift Of the still August morn, so I might shift The scenery of my thoughts, and gild their old Monotonous fringes with a light less cold, I found the aromatic herb, whose swift And sweet associations bore me away To boyhood, when beneath an oak like this I culled the fragrant leaves. Crude childhood's bliss Was in the scent; but brighter smiled the day For memories no cold shade could overcast -- Safe 'mid the unblighted treasures of the past. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARIS IN SPRING by SARA TEASDALE THE BROKEN HEART by JOHN DONNE THE PROGRESS OF POETRY by JONATHAN SWIFT THE SWALLOWS by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS IN HADES by ANNA CALLENDER BRACKETT GOLDFISH ON THE WRITING DESK by MAX BROD ADVICE TO THE REVERENDS ON THEIR PREACHING SLOWLY by JOHN BYROM THE LOVER TO HIS MISTRESS ON HER BIRTHDAY by THOMAS CAMPBELL |