In the place where the grizzly reposes, Under peaks where a right is a wrong, I have memories richer than roses, Sweet echoes more sweet than a song; Sounds sweet as the voice of a singer Made sacred with sorrows unsaid, And a love that implores me to linger For the love of dead days and their dead. But I turn, throwing kisses, returning To strife and to turbulent men, As to learn to be wise, as unlearning All things that were manliest then. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THOMAS MACDONAGH by FRANCIS LEDWIDGE SONNET: 23. ON HIS DECEASED WIFE by JOHN MILTON EPITAPH ON HIMSELF by MATTHEW PRIOR THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 4. LOVESIGHT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI MY PICTURE-GALLERY by WALT WHITMAN |