The king of rivers has a dolorous shore, A dreamful dominion of cypress-trees, A gray bird rising forever more, And drifting away toward the Mexican seas -- A lone bird seeking for some lost mate, So dolorous, lorn and desolate. The shores are gray as the sands are gray; And gray are the trees in their cloaks of moss; -- That gray bird rising and drifting away, Slow dragging its weary long legs across -- So weary, just over the gray wood's brink; It wearies one, body and soul to think. These vast gray levels of cypress wood, The gray soldiers' graves; and so, God's will -- These cypress-trees' roots are still running blood; The smoke of battle in their mosses still -- That gray bird wearily drifting away Was startled some long-since battle day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE GARDEN (1) by EMILY DICKINSON AT BETHLEHEM: 3. TO HIS MOTHER by JOHN BANISTER TABB THE FAIRY KING by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE INNOCENT MAGICIAN; OR, A CHARM AGAINST LOVE by PHILIP AYRES THE WANDERER: 6. PALINGENSIS: EUTHANASIA (WRITTEN AFTER LONG ILLNESS) by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON A RIVER POOL by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH A SONNET; ADDRESSED TO MR. PHILLIPS by WILLIAM COWPER POSTHUMOUS TALES: TALE 11. THE MERCHANT by GEORGE CRABBE A HARROW GRAVE IN FLANDERS by ROBERT OFFLEY ASHBURTON CREWE-MILNES |