SHE comes through the meadow yonder, Her face is turned to the west, And I divine how her clear eyes shine With the light of a lasting rest; And the rays of the sun-set wander To bless her, and she is blest -- By touch of their golden splendour, By beauty of earth and sky, Her spirit waits at the western gates, No music can pass her by That Heaven or Earth may send her, I watch where I stand, and sigh. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BOOK OF STONES AND LILIES by AMY LOWELL CAVALIER TUNES: BOOT AND SADDLE by ROBERT BROWNING SPRING [IN WAR-TIME] by HENRY TIMROD LOST AT SEA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A CHILD IS WEEPING by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |