The heather I trod while breathing on earth, Must bloom o'er my grave in the land of my birth; My warm heart would shrink like the fern in the frost, If the tops of my hills to my dim eye were lost. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PEACE ON EARTH by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON BACCHUS by RALPH WALDO EMERSON HYMN OF TRUST by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES ABYSS by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS SANDALPHON by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE SIGN OF THE CROSS by JOHN HENRY NEWMAN A WORKING PARTY by SIEGFRIED SASSOON |