I hide myself within my flower, That fading from your Vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me - Almost a loneliness. I know a place where Summer strives With such a practised Frost- She-each year-leads her Daisies back- Recording briefly-"Lost"- But when the South Wind stirs the Pools And struggles in the lanes- Her Heart misgives Her, for Her Vow- And she pours soft Refrains Into the lap of Adamant- And spices-and the Dew- That stiffens quietly to Quartz- Upon her Amber Shoe | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMMORTALITY [OR, VERSE] by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR TO A CHILD OF QUALITY, FIVE YEARS OLD. THE AUTHOR THAN FORTY by MATTHEW PRIOR THE TROOPS by SIEGFRIED SASSOON SPRING THOUGHTS by FLORENCE E. BALDWIN THE GIFT by ALICE EWING BLACKWELL WE HAVE DREAMED TOO MUCH OF GOLD by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |