LET me be self-deceived. Like the lean bird, crouched on the black-thorn's breast, That sings unnoticed and unnoticed ends, Contented and ungrieved Though her fond, brief unrest Sets the dews shaking and the thorn-twig bends. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BATTLE OF THE BALTIC by THOMAS CAMPBELL GASCOIGNE'S GOOD MORROW by GEORGE GASCOIGNE THE DORCHESTER GIANT by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES COLUMBUS [JANUARY, 1487] by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY IN YOUTH IS PLEASURE by ROBERT WEVER TO THE DAISY (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |