Your pallor is no rose that blooms And no white bird with glassy plumes. More pale than pear trees blowing white Your body trembles on the night. The music of your motion is Least dubious of mysteries For so I sense you from afar. Like bird and bloom and song you are. These things I loved, but they are lost. The bird is broken on the gust. The bloom is given to the dust. A song is never always new And is forgot. And you, and you. . . . | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...O SOUTHLAND! by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON DISCORDANTS: 1 by CONRAD AIKEN THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 31 by PHILIP SIDNEY SPRING SONG by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH THE SPRING OF THE YEAR by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |