Author Walter James Turner The Sun has come, I know; But yesterday I stood Beside it in the wood ā But O how pale, how softly it did glow! I stooped to warm my hands Before its rain-washed gold, But it was pebbly-cold, Startled to find itself in these dark lands! Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments