HERE is no hedge of yewe to hold in griefe, No cypresse nor long willow for despaire. But the young birch displayes his cheerfulle leaf In tracerie most faire. Where the sunne falls at morn stand poplars seven Where freely I of all sweete joyes may borrowe, An elm that lifts his prayerfulle arms to Heaven, And three tall pines for sorrowe. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: FOX TROT by EDITH SITWELL ODE TO EVENING by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) A SEA STORY by EMILY HENRIETTA HICKEY ZION, OR THE CITY OF GOD by JOHN NEWTON THE POET'S SONG FOR HIS WIFE by BRYAN WALLER PROCTER WHEN KREISLER PLAYS by FRANCES BARTLETT |