(From Frise on the Somme in February, 1917, in answer to a letter saying: "I am just finishing my 'Faun's Holiday.' I wish you were here to feed him with cherries.") HERE by a snowbound river In scrapen holes we shiver, And like old bitterns we Boom to you plaintively: Robert, how can I rhyme Verses for your desire -- Sleek fauns and cherry-time, Vague music and green trees, Hot sun and gentle breeze, England in June attire, And life born young again, For your gay goatish brute Drunk with warm melody Singing on beds of thyme With red and rolling eye, Waking with wanton lute All the Devonian plain, Lips dark with juicy stain, Ears hung with bobbing fruit? Why should I keep him time? Why in this cold and rime, Where even to dream is pain? No, Robert, there's no reason: Cherries are out of season, Ice grips at branch and root, And singing birds are mute. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GLAMOUR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE RING AND THE CASTLE by AMY LOWELL HEART'S FIRST WORD (2) by ISAAC ROSENBERG REASONS FOR DRINKING by HENRY ALDRICH WYNKEN, BLYNKEN AND NOD by EUGENE FIELD AT LULWORTH COVE A CENTURY BACK by THOMAS HARDY PRE-EXISTENCE by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE THE FIRST PROCLAMATION OF MILES STANDISH [NOVEMBER 23, 1620] by MARGARET JUNKIN PRESTON |