DEAREST and most inseparable Friend, Why is it that the thought of thee is bound With one small plot of honey-scented ground, Through which a murmuring river without end Flows, while its eddies with the grasses blend? Have I been there with thee? Has that low sound In thy wise voice a tenderer echo found? What valley is this towards which my dreams descend? Is it that corner of your leaguered brain, Shut in by high ambitions, and the stress Of battling hopes and godlike imagery, Where you grow hushed and like a child again, Shifting your armour for an easier dress, To sit an hour and hold me company? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CHRISTMAS HYMN (OLD STYLE: 1837) by ALFRED DOMETT THE HEART KNOWETH ITS OWN BITTERNESS' (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI PRAIRIE MUSIC by NELLIE COOLEY ALDER DO THOU LOVE, TOO! by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS THE LAST MAN: SUBTERRANEAN CITY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE PLACE OF LOVE by S. C. BRACKETT LITTLE PATH by MARTHA MARDEN BRIGGS |