I IDLY cut a parsley stalk, And blew therein towards the moon; I had not thought what ghosts would walk With shivering footsteps to my tune. I went, and knelt, and scooped my hand As if to drink, into the brook, And a faint figure seemed to stand Above me, with the bygone look. I lipped rough rhymes of chance, not choice, I thought not what my words might be; There came into my ear a voice That turned a tenderer verse for me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BLACK SAMSON OF BRANDYWINE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR PARTED by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SONNET: THE EVENING STAR by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE RAINY DAY by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE SOUL AND BODY by ANDREW MARVELL SPRING, 1916 by ISAAC ROSENBERG A SONG OF PANAMA by ALFRED DAMON RUNYON |