THOU art the soul of a summer's day, Thou art the breath of the rose. But the summer is fled And the rose is dead Where are they gone, who knows, who knows? Thou art the blood of my heart o' hearts, Thou art my soul's repose, But my heart grows numb And my soul is dumb Where art thou, love, who knows, who knows? Thou art the hope of my after years -- Sun for my winter snows But the years go by 'Neath a clouded sky. Where shall we meet, who knows, who knows? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO MR. S.T. COLERIDGE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE LATTER DAY by THOMAS HASTINGS THE BOYS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES A PRAISE OF HIS LOVE by HENRY HOWARD SONNET: THE HUMAN SEASONS by JOHN KEATS ON THE EPHEMERALNESS OF BEAUTY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS SONNET FROM JAPAN: 1. THE SPELL by ADELAIDE NICHOLS BAKER |