I know thee, O thou wailing wind! Thou comest from the summer's tomb, Regretting what is left behind, The glory dimmed, the lost perfume. Could I remember, wailing wind, As thou rememberest, I could weep, And weeping thus I should unbind The dead from their eternal sleep. But still they sleep, remorseful wind, They moulder passive, cold and mute; Wayfaring thoughts and passions blind Pass by and tread them under foot. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TERNISSA, FR HELLENICS by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE CUMBERLAND by HERMAN MELVILLE THE RAZOR-SELLER by JOHN WOLCOTT RARE DESTINY by FLORA LOUISE BAILEY THE QUAKER POET; VERSES ON SEEING MYSELF SO DESIGNATED by BERNARD BARTON HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 46 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH MY DELIGHT by GAMALIEL BRADFORD |