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From The German: Poem by Alice Duer Miller

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ONCE for thy brow a wreath I wished to wind,
And, seeking long, I could no flowers find.
Now golden flowers are blooming far and near,
But, ah! dear love, thou art no longer here.

Analysis of this poem

More verses by Alice Duer Miller

  • Forsaking All Others Part 1
  • Forsaking All Others Part 3
  • An Exhortation To Gentleness
  • The Way
  • A Dialouge

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Poems about...
  • love
  • death
  • life
  • nature
  • family
  • spring
  • winter
  • summer
  • autumn
  • depression
  • beautiful
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