The April night is still and sweet With flowers on every tree; Peace comes to them on quiet feet, But not to me. My peace is hidden in his breast Where I shall never be, Love comes to-night to all the rest, But not to me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO SEE THE STARS IN DAYLIGHT by JAMES GALVIN DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 5. THE DANCING GIRL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON STREET CRIES: 6. TO RICHARD WAGNER by SIDNEY LANIER SLEEPING TOGETHER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD DOMESDAY BOOK: HENRY BAKER, AT NEW YORK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |