WHAT were the whole void world, if thou wert dead, Whose briefest absence can eclipse my day, And make the hours that danced with Time away Drag their funereal steps with muffled head? Through thee, meseems, the very rose is red, From thee the violet steals its breath in May, From thee draw life all things that grow not gray, And by thy force the happy stars are sped. Thou near, the hope of thee to overflow Fills all my earth and heaven, as when in Spring, Ere April come, the birds and blossoms know, And grasses brighten round her feet to cling; Nay, and this hope delights all nature so That the dumb turf I tread on seems to sing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RODGERSON'S DOUG by WILLIAM AITKEN CHRISTMAS EVE, 1917 by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES VIVAMUS by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES VERAZZANO AT RHODES AND RHODE ISLAND by HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER by ALICE CARY |