There Falls With Every Wedding Chime

THERE falls with every wedding chime
A feather from the wing of Time.
You pick it up, and say “How fair
To look upon its colors are!”
Another drops day after day
Unheeded; not one word you say.
When bright and dusky are blown past,
Upon the hearse there nods the last.

by Walter Savage Landor

Other poems of LANDOR (116)

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.