Blind from my birth, Where flowers are springing I sit on earth All dark. Hark! hark! A lark is singing, His notes are all for me, For me his mirth: -- Till some day I shall see Beautiful flowers And birds in bowers Where all joy-bells are ringing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FROM THE AGES WITH A SMILE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS ON THE BALCONY by PAUL VERLAINE DON JUAN IN HELL by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE WHEN WILL LOVE COME? by PAKENHAM THOMAS BEATTY THE SONNET by RICHARD WATSON GILDER THE CAGED SKYLARK by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS UNDER THE OAK by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE THE DIRGE [FOR FIDELE], FR. CYMBELINE by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |