Most read ▸
Fair ground
all summer is a fair
the more I see the more I rove
lane by lane
a dance of loose doors
thoughts but no fur
found in burrows
Poems on the topic: lane
Poems on the topic “lane” on Poets.by.
In the Lane
The birds return,
The blossom brightens again the cherry bough.
The hedges are green again
In the airless lane,
And hedge and blossom and bird call, Now, now, now!
O birds, return!
Who will care if the blossom die on the bough,
Or the hedge be bare again
In the screaming lane?
For what they were these are not, are not now.
The one gone makes
All that remain seem strange and lonely now.
She will not walk here again
In the blossoming lane:--
And there's a dead bough in every blossoming bough.
With Flowers
These have more language than my song,
Take them and let them speak for me.
I whispered them a secret thing
Down the green lanes of Allary.
You shall remember quiet ways
Watching them fade, and quiet eyes,
And two hearts given up to love,
A foolish and an overwise.
On the Asylum Road
Theirs is the house whose windows — every pane —
Are made of darkly stained or clouded glass :
Sometimes you come upon them in the lane,
The saddest crowd that you will ever pass.
But still we merry town or village folk
Throw to their scattered stare a kindly grin,
And think no shame to stop and crack a joke
With the incarnate wages of man's sin.
None but ourselves in our long gallery we meet,
The moor-hen stepping from her reeds with dainty feet,
The hare-bell bowing on his stem,
Dance not with us ; their pulses beat
To fainter music ; nor do we to them
Make their life sweet.
The gayest crowd that they will ever pass
Are we to brother-shadows in the lane :
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
Or try: