WHEN days were long, and o'er that farm of mine, Green Cedarcroft, the summer breezes blew, And from the walnut shadows I and you, Dear Edmund, saw the red lawn-roses shine, Or followed our idyllic Brandywine Through meadows flecked with many a flowery hue, To where with wild Arcadian pomp I drew Your Bacchic march among the startled kine, You gave me, linked with old Maeonides, Your loving sonnet, -- record dear and true Of days as dear: and now, when suns are brief, And Christmas snows are on the naked trees, I give you this, -- a withered winter leaf, Yet with your blossom from one root it grew. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONGS OF EXPERIENCE: INTRODUCTION by WILLIAM BLAKE WHISPERS OF IMMORTALITY by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 18 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN SUDDEN LIGHT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI GATHERING SONG OF DONALD [OR, DONUI DHU] THE BLACK by WALTER SCOTT |