THEY have no song, the sedges dry, And still they sing. It is within my breast they sing, As I pass by. Within my breast they touch a string, They wake a sigh. There is but sound of sedges dry; In me they sing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EYES AND TEARS by ANDREW MARVELL SHE PASSED THIS WAY by ANNA M. ACKERMANN A FRAGMENT OF AN EPIC POEM, OCCASIONED BY THE LOSS OF A GAME by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD BRUCE: HOW THE BRUCE CROSSED LOCH LOMOND by JOHN BARBOUR |