WHEN freezing winter smites the whirling globe, I kiss the lingering flowers that look afraid, And smooth the graves, where, like a folded robe The worn-out bodies, that men love, are laid. As noiseless as the deepest love I fall, As mute and tender and divinely pure; When sunshine comes, I hide away from all In roots that make the coming blossoms sure. For many weary folk that, homeless, fare, Having no roof, and bidden still move on, I make a bed where they, forgetting care, Will wake with sweeter words to think upon. For are not softest snow and fiercest flame The angels and the ministers of One Who writes the symbols of His secret Name In all the universe of star and sun? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLACK MAMMY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON FREE FANTASIA ON JAPANESE THEMES by AMY LOWELL THE CRESCENT MOON by AMY LOWELL ITALIAN PICTURES: JULY IN VALLOMBROSA by MINA LOY FOR THE NEW YEAR by EDWIN MARKHAM |