In the silver light after a storm, Under dripping boughs of bright new green, I take the low path to hear the meadowlarks Alone and high-hearted as if I were a queen. What have I to fear in life or death Who have known three things: the kiss in the night, The white flying joy when a song is born, And meadowlarks whistling in silver light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A HYMN FOR PROCESSION WITH CROSS AND BANNERS by SABINE BARING-GOULD A THUNDER-STORM (2ND VERSION) by EMILY DICKINSON THE END OF THE EPISODE by THOMAS HARDY AMOR MUNDI by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE SHADOWS by FRANK DEMPSTER SHERMAN THE FOOL'S ADVENTURE by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE MANSONG: CHORAL by MARCUS ADENEY CONTENT; WRITTEN OFF ITHACA by ALFRED AUSTIN ON GOOD FRIDAY, THE DAY OF OUR SAVIOUR'S PASSION by PHILIP AYRES |