Wild thing the wind is, A bird in its bosom; Fire is a banner And thunder a stay; But a heart's full leaning Is to faithless lover, @3For the heart has a way@1 ... Life and her wisdom Etchings of silver— Ravish an altar Cold, on the breast; Wind, fire and shadow Bleed in a flagon— @3The heart knows best.@1 Blown bird nesting— Cry in the darkness; Waiting the flaming Of outcast desire; Waiting the bruising Of ash, and the purple Rage of the fire. Crush the grapes madly, Lips stain darkly! (Still lies the bird note On wind's curved breast.) Empty the flagon, . . Its ripe wine bleeding: @3The heart knows best.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FAREWELL TO HIS WIFE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE SNUG LITTLE ISLAND by THOMAS FROGNALL DIBDIN A FIESOLAN IDYL by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR IN THE CHURCHYARD AT CAMBRIDGE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE DRUM by JOHN SCOTT (1730-1783) |