Where is beauty?
Gone, gone:
The cold winds have taken it
With their faint moan;
The white stars have shaken it,
Trembling down,
Into the pathless deeps of the sea.
Gone, gone
Is beauty from me.
The clear naked flower
Is faded and dead;
The green-leafed willow,
Drooping her head,
Whispers low to the shade
Of her boughs in the stream,
Sighing a beauty,
Secret as dream.
The Song Of The Secret
Walter De La Mare
(1)
Poem topics: dream, flower, green, sea, head, white, shade, clear, cold, secret, stream, beauty, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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