I watch the sweet grave face in timorous thought Lest I should see it dawn to some unrest And read that in her heart is youth's ill guest, The querulous young sadness, born of nought, That wearies of the strife it has not fought, And finds the life it has not had unblest, And asks it knows not what that should be best, And till Love come has never what it sought. But she is still. A full and crystal lake So gives it skies their passage to its deeps In an unruffled morn where no winds wake, And, strong and fretless, 'stirs not, nor yet sleeps. My darling smiles and 'tis for gladness' sake; She hears a woe, 'tis simple tears she weeps. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 50 by GEORGE SANTAYANA SIMMENTHAL by FREDERICK WILLIAM HENRY MYERS THE DEAR PRESIDENT by JOHN JAMES PIATT A SNOWFLAKE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH EPIGAEA ASLEEP by WILLIAM WHITMAN BAILEY CHRISTMAS EVE by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE FIGHTING WORD by BERTON BRALEY THE POET'S TERROR AT THE BALIFFS OF EXETER, FR. FREEDOM: A POEM by ANDREW BRICE |