THANKFUL was I to be there This February morning, And watch the hill-wood giving Her bosom to the sun, And life come to the living, And winter sleeping. And such thoughts came to me there This February morning, Of cypress nightlong sighing Over beloved heads Now senseless, unreplying To love's low whisper. Humbled was I to be there This February morning. These men my friends were folding Thin-knotted, nerveless hands, While my firm hand was holding First buds of willow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UNDERSTANDING by NIXON WATERMAN THE ANNOYER by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS WOODEN WHEELS by LOWELL C. BALLARD UNDERTONES by GRACE HOLBROOK BLOOD A DREAM AND A SONG by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE AN OLD-WORLD CONVENT GARDEN by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |