Classic poem of the day
WHEREIN HE ENVIES EARTH, HEAVEN AND THE GRAVE THEIR GOLDEN TREASURE
What grudge against the greedy earth I bear
That in his bleak and treacherous embrace
Retains the golden lustre of that face
Whose single glance could overwhelm despair!
What grudge against the saints with yellow hair
Who seemed so anxious from that mould of grace
To call the spirit to its proper place,
To share delights only the few may share!
What grudge against......
Member poem of the day
Far away over meadows, fields and hills Or through oak woodland which is ever sweet; Seeking out Wordsworth's golden daffodils. Early morning, amid the dewy chills Where a dawn kissed grassland moistens the feet Far away over meadows, fields and hills. A perfumed carpet your raw sense it fills A yellow trumpeted aspect replete Seeking out Wordsworth's golden daffodils. And by the noon, as mid-day sunlight spills, I wander onward down a floral street Far away over meadows,......
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