WHEN March was master of furrow and fold, And the skies kept cloudy festival And the daffodil pods were tipped with gold And a passion was in the plover's call, A spare old man went hobbling by With a broken pipe and a tapping stick, And he mumbled -- "Blossom before I die, Be quick, you little brown buds, be quick. "I've weathered the world for a count of years -- Good old years of shining fire -- And death and the devil bring no fears, And I've fed the flame of my last desire; I'm ready to go, but I'd pass the gate On the edge of the world with an old heart sick If I missed the blossoms. I may not wait -- The gate is open -- be quick, be quick." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PHANTOM KISS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR FOOTLIGHT MOTIFS: 3. GABY DESLYS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS DEATH AND THE MONK by ARTHUR E. BAKER DELIVERANCE by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS WALKEN HWOME AT NIGHT by WILLIAM BARNES THE BLUDE RED ROSE AT YULE by ROBERT BURNS TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. BY THIS HEART by EDWARD CARPENTER |