WE had been long in mountain snow, In valleys bleak, and broad, and bare, Where only moss and willows grow, And no bird wings the silent air. And so, when on our downward way Wild roses met us, we were glad: They were so girlish fair, so gay, It seemed the sun had made them mad. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLACK RIDERS: 1 by STEPHEN CRANE THE FALLEN STAR by GEORGE DARLEY ON THE SLAIN AT CHICKAMAUGA by HERMAN MELVILLE MAIDEN MELANCHOLY by RAINER MARIA RILKE UNDERSTANDING by NIXON WATERMAN THE ACHARNIANS: IN PRAISE OF THE POET by ARISTOPHANES |