I AM laughing by the brook with her, Splashed in its tumbling stir; And then it is a blankness looms As if I walked not there, Nor she, but found me in haggard rooms, And treading a lonely stair. With radiant cheeks and rapid eyes We sit where none espies; Till a harsh change comes edging in As no such scene were there, But winter, and I were bent and thin, And cinder-gray my hair. We dance in heys around the hall, Weightless as thistleball; And then a curtain drops between, As if I danced not there, But wandered through a mounded green To find her, I knew where. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SCILLA'S METAMORPHOSIS: MELANCHOLY by THOMAS LODGE A FAREWELL TO LONDON IN THE YEAR 1715 by ALEXANDER POPE THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: DEDICATORY SONNET by EDMUND SPENSER UNDERWOODS: BOOK 1: 25. MOTHER AND SON by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON JERUSALEM; THE EMANATION OF THE GIANT ALBION: CHAPTER 3 by WILLIAM BLAKE TO A LADY, ON BEING ASKED MY REASON FOR QUITTING ENGLAND by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |