In the dark twilight of an autumn morn, I stood within a little country-town, Wherefrom a long acquainted path went down To the dear village haunts where I was born; The low of oxen on the rainy wind, Death and the Past, came up the well-known road, And bathed my heart with tears, but stirred my mind To tread once more the track so long untrod; But I was warned, 'Regrets which are not thrust Upon thee, seek not; for this sobbing breeze Will but unman thee; thou art bold to trust Thy woe-worn thoughts among these roaring trees, And gleams of by-gone playgrounds - Is't no crime To rush by night into the arms of Time?' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DIRGE FOR TWO VETERANS by WALT WHITMAN OUR STATE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 80, 81. GHAFOOR, MUNTAKIM by EDWIN ARNOLD ST. HELENA by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER THE THREE PLEASURES by JULIEN AUGUSTE PELAGE BRIZEUX SONG by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |