How beautiful and fresh the grass returns! When golden days decline, the meadow burns; Yet autumn suns no hidden root have slain, The spring winds blow, and there is grass again. Green rioting on olden ways it falls: The blue sky storms the ruined city walls; Yet since Wang Sun departed long ago, When the grass blooms both joy and fear I know. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LAWYER'S WAYS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE SELF-UNSEEING by THOMAS HARDY THE MASTER by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 3. BEAUTY UNLOOKED FOR by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE SOUL'S TRAVELLING by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING STRATHALLAN'S LAMENT by ROBERT BURNS TO A.D. UNREASONABLE DISTRUSTFUL OF HER OWN BEAUTY by THOMAS CAREW |