WHENCE art thou, lovely thing?—Pure as the snow That falls from heaven, art thou heaven-born? Did some bright seraph in the early morn Visit the town, and, ere he turned to go, On the bare gardens this glad gift bestow, Leaving the snowdrops here to cheer the worn Watchers of earth?—Well might thy grace adorn The fields of Paradise. Nay, but I know That is not God's way. Not from the blue sky Have angels brought thee: thy white flower must Have risen from a rough ungenial soil; Like to life's poetry, that comes not by A poet's dreams, but blossoms in the dust Of lowly cares and patient-handed toil. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THEY HAVEN'T HEARD THE WEST IS OVER by JAMES GALVIN THE MARRIAGE (1) by TIMOTHY LIU SONG FOR A VIOLA D'AMORE by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: OSCAR HUMMEL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A HYMN OF HATE by DOROTHY PARKER GLASS HOUSES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON GARDEN WIRELESS by CARL SANDBURG |