Thou comest, May, with leaves and flowers, And nights grow short, and days grow long; And for thy sake in bush and tree, The small birds sing, both old and young; And only I am dumb and wait The passing of a fish-like state. You birds, you old grandfathers now, That have such power to welcome spring, I, but a father in my years, Have nothing in my mind to sing; My lips, like gills in deep-sea homes, Beat time, and still no music comes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INCOGNITA OF RAPHAEL by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 54 by ALFRED TENNYSON TO A MATTABASSETT (A CONNECTICUT INDIAN) by WALTER BARDECK PSALM 17. EXAUDI DOMINE JUSTITIAM by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |