Many dreams I have dreamed
That are all now gone.
The world, mirrored in a dark pool,
How unearthly it shone!
But now I have comfort
From the things that are,
Nor shrink too ashamed from the self
That to self is bare.
More than soft clouds of leaf
I like the stark form
Of the tree standing up without mask
In stillness and storm,
Poverty in the grain,
Warp, gnarl, exposed,
Nothing of nature's fault or the years'
Slow injury glozed.
From the thing that is
My comfort is come.
Wind washes the plain road:
This is the way home.
The Way Home
Robert Laurence Binyon
(1)
Poem topics: dark, home, nature, poverty, tree, wind, world, plain, storm, fault, soft, slow, comfort, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about The Way Home poem by Robert Laurence Binyon
kanishka bhardwaj: i love the poem very much it's so amazing
Best Poems of Robert Laurence Binyon