MY neighbor yonder, at her door, Looks out and sees the bloom, Turning the formal park before Into a fair white room. Of all her life or ill or good, This is remembered, — An old house set by an old wood; The lad she did not wed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...1914: 5. THE SOLDIER by RUPERT BROOKE EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: COMMON FORM by RUDYARD KIPLING THE WORLD: A CHILD'S SONG by WILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS THE HOLLY TREE by ROBERT SOUTHEY THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: DECEMBER by EDMUND SPENSER THE KING'S HAND by MUHAMMAD AL-MU'TAMID II FOR NOEL (WHERE A GATE SWINGS EITHER WAY) by BEULAH ALLYNE BELL |