Sometimes, when sunshine and blue sky prevail -- When spent winds sleep, and, from the budding larch, Small birds, with incomplete, vague sweetness, hail The unconfirmed, yet quickening life of March, -- Then say I to myself, half-eased of care, Toying with hope as with a maiden's token, -- "This glorious, invisible fresh air Will clear my blood till the disease be broken." But slowly, from the wild and infinite west, Up-sails a cloud, full-charged with bitter sleet. The omen gives my spirit deep unrest; I fling aside the hope, as indiscreet, -- A false enchantment, treacherous and fair, -- And sink into my habit of despair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEDICATION TO THE LATER SONNETS TO URANIA by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 53. WITHOUT HER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE WHITE SHIP by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI LINES TO A TEAPOT by JOANNA BAILLIE PSALM 21. DOMINE IN VIRTUTE by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE ROAD OF SLEEP by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH TO WOMAN by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. A SONG OF ONE IN OLD AGE by EDWARD CARPENTER |