WHEN you are lonely, full of care, Or sad with some new sorrow, And when your tired fancy hides The brightness of the morrow, Ah, turn your footsteps to the woods And meadows, where the rills, Are quietly flowing, when the moon And stars shine on the hills. Upon your brow the great wise trees Will breathe, and something sweet Will reach you from the fragrant grass You press beneath your feet, And a fair spirit of the fields, Peaceful and happy-eyed, Will find a way into your heart, I think, and there abide. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE VISIONARY by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE RETIRED CAT by WILLIAM COWPER THE LAY OF THE LOVELORN; PARODY OF TENNYSON'S 'LOCKSLEY HALL' by THEODORE MARTIN THE POET by PHILIP JAMES BAILEY THE BALLAD OF BITTER FRUIT by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE RECOLLECTIONS OF SOLITUDE; AN ELEGY by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES |