I READ, dear friend, in your dear face Your life's tale told with perfect grace; The river of your life I trace Up the sun-chequered, devious bed To the far-distant fountain-head. Not one quick beat of your warm heart, Nor thought that came to you apart, Pleasure nor pity, love nor pain Nor sorrow, has gone by in vain; But as some lone, wood-wandering child Brings home with him at evening mild The thorns and flowers of all the wild, From your whole life, O fair and true Your flowers and thorns you bring with you! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO DISRAELI ON CONSERVATISM by MARIANNE MOORE BALLAD OF THE LORDS OF OLD TIME by FRANCOIS VILLON AT CASTLE BOTEREL by THOMAS HARDY TO HIS LATE MAJESTY, CONCERNING..TRUE FORM OF ENGLISH POETRY by JOHN BEAUMONT LORD FINCHLEY by HILAIRE BELLOC |