I dream'd there would be Spring no more, That Nature's ancient power was lost; The streets were black with smoke and frost, They chatter'd trifles at the door; I wander'd from the noisy town, I found a wood with thorny boughs; I took the thorns to bind my brows, I wore them like a civic crown; I met with scoffs, I met with scorns From youth and babe and hoary hairs: They call'd me in the public squares The fool that wears a crown of thorns. They call'd me fool, they call'd me child: I found an angel of the night; The voice was low, the look was bright; He look'd upon my crown and smiled. He reach'd the glory of a hand, That seem'd to touch it into leaf; The voice was not the voice of grief, The words were hard to understand. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN INSINCERE WISH ADDRESSED TO A BEGGAR by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE BY THE ALMA RIVER by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK MY LOVE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL CROSSING THE PLAINS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 69. AL-MAKUTADIR by EDWIN ARNOLD |