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Elegy In April And September

Rating: 2.8

Hush, thrush! Hush, missen-thrush, I listen...
I heard the flush of footsteps through the loose leaves,
And a low whistle by the water's brim.

Still! Daffodil! Nay, hail me not so gaily,-
Your gay gold lily daunts me and deceives,
Who follow gleams more golden and more slim.

Look, brook! O run and look, O run!
The vain reeds shook? - Yet search till gray sea heaves,

And I will stray among these fields for him.
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dominic Richard Harisson 07 January 2021

scary, but my kind of scary....

0 0 Reply

Very nice poem with some cool rhyme!

4 4 Reply
Laura Burns 09 September 2014

Interesting use of internal rhyme.

8 5 Reply
Primrose Tee 05 May 2014

nice poem......................................

4 10 Reply
Dawn Fuzan 27 April 2014

I like this one, its Good

6 6 Reply

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