Hush, thrush! Hush, missen-thrush, I listen... <br />I heard the flush of footsteps through the loose leaves, <br />And a low whistle by the water's brim. <br /> <br />Still! Daffodil! Nay, hail me not so gaily,- <br />Your gay gold lily daunts me and deceives, <br />Who follow gleams more golden and more slim. <br /> <br />Look, brook! O run and look, O run! <br />The vain reeds shook? - Yet search till gray sea heaves, <br />And I will stray among these fields for him. <br /> <br />Gaze, daisy! Stare through haze and glare, <br />And mark the hazardous stars all dawns and eves, <br />For my eye withers, and his star wanes dim. <br /> <br /> <br />2 <br /> <br />Close, rose, and droop, heliotrope, <br />And shudder, hope! The shattering winter blows. <br />Drop, heliotrope, and close, rose... <br /> <br />Mourn, corn, and sigh, rye. <br />Men garner you, but youth's head lies forlorn. <br />Sigh, rye, and mourn, corn... <br /> <br />Brood, wood, and muse, yews, <br />The ways gods use we have not understood. <br />Muse, yews, and brood, wood...<br /><br />Wilfred Owen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/elegy-in-april-and-september/
