On the far hill the cloud of thunder grew
And sunlight blurred below; but sultry blue
Burned yet on the valley water where it hoards
Behind the miller's elmen floodgate boards,
...
I came to the churchyard where pretty Joy lies
On a morning in April, a rare sunny day;
Such bloom rose around, and so many birds' cries
That I sang for delight as I followed the way.
...
How many schemes may die
In one short Afternoon
Entirely unknown
To those they most concern-
The man that was not lost
Because by accident
... Read complete poem
