THESE flowers survive their lover bees, Whose deep bass voices filled the air; The cuckoo and the nightingale Have come and gone, we know not where. Now, in this green and silent world, In Autumn, full of smiling light, I hear a bird that, suddenly, Startles my hearing and my sight. It is the Robin, singing of A silver world of snow and frost; Where all is cold and white—except The fire that's on his own warm breast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VERSES SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY ALEXANDER SELKIRK by WILLIAM COWPER THE SCRIBE by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE LAMENT by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE BLUE-FLAG IN THE BOG by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY MY SOLITUDE by JAMES R. AGGELES PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 88. AL-MUGHNI by EDWIN ARNOLD ZERO by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |