THE birds come back to their last year's nest, And the wild-rose nods in the lane; And gold in the east, and red in the west, The sun bestirs him again. The thief-bee rifles the hawthorn flower; And the breezes softly sigh For the columbine in my lady's bower, And then at her feet they die. And all the pomp of the June is here -- The mirth and passion and song; And young is the summer, and life is dear, And the day is never too long. Ah! birds come back to their last year's nest, And the wild-rose laughs in the lane; But I turn to the east and I turn to the west -- "She never will come again." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...O SOUTHLAND! by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE AWAKENING by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON AUSPEX by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL OF TREASON by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS OLD WAR-DREAMS by WALT WHITMAN TAKE HER, BREAK HER by ANACREON SONNET: 8 by RICHARD BARNFIELD |