ONE of my wishes is that those dark trees, So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze, Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom, But stretched away unto the edge of doom. I should not be withheld but that some day Into their vastness I should steal away, Fearless of ever finding open land, Or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand. I do not see why I should e'er turn back, Or those should not set forth upon my track To overtake me, who should miss me here And long to know if still I held them dear. They would not find me changed from him they knew -- Only more sure of all I thought was true. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 33 by JAMES JOYCE THE WOMEN WITH FABLED HAIR by MADELINE DEFREES ON THE INFLATION OF THE CURRENCY, 1919 by ROBERT FROST LEFT-HANDED POEM by JAMES GALVIN GOOD-BYE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |