O, Struck Beneath The Laurel

O, STRUCK beneath the laurel, where the singing fountains are,
I saw from heaven falling the star of love afar;
O, slain in Eden’s bower nigh the bourn where lovers rest,
I fell upon the arrow that was buried in my breast;
Farewell the noble labor, farewell the silent pain,
Farewell the perfect honor of the long years lived in vain;
I lie upon the moorland where the wood and pasture meet,
And the cords that no man breaketh are bound about my feet.

by George Edward Woodberry

Other poems of GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY (21)

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