A WILDING little stubble flower The sickle scorned which cut for wheat, Such was our hope in that dark hour When nought save uses held the street, And daily pleasures, daily needs, With barren vision, looked ahead. And still the same result of seeds Gave likeness 'twixt the live and dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WAITING IN THE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL by CLARENCE MAJOR WITH AN ALBUM by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR LAYS OF FRANCE: SONG (2) by MARIE DE FRANCE EPITAPH by MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU THE CASE OF ALBERT IRVING WILLIAMSON by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS TO A PROFILE by BERNARD BARTON WARNING TO TROOPS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |