WHEN leaves turn outward to the light, And all the roads are fringed with green, When larks are pouring, high, unseen, The joy they find in song and flight, Then I, too, with the lark would wing My little flight, and, soaring, sing. When larks drop downward to the nest, And day drops downward to the sea, And song and wing are fain to rest, The lark's dear wisdom guideth me, And I too turn within my door, Content to dream, and sing no more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CARPENTER'S SON by SARA TEASDALE THE WANDERER: A ROCOCO STUDY (FIRST VERSION) by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS TRULY GREAT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES OLD FOLKS AT HOME by STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER UNTO US A SON IS GIVEN by ALICE MEYNELL EPIGRAM: PERJURY by ROBERT NUGENT THE BALLAD OF THE FOXHUNTER by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |