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Poem by Arthur Hugh Clough The Shady Lane Whence comest thou? shady lane, and why and how? Thou, where with idle heart, ten years ago, I wandered, and with childhood’s paces slow So long unthought of, and remembered now! Again in vision clear thy pathwayed side I tread, and view thy orchard plots again With yellow fruitage hung,—and glimmering grain Standing or shocked through the thick hedge espied. This hot still noon of August brings the sight; This quelling silence as of eve or night, Wherein Earth (feeling as a mother may After her travail’s latest bitterest throes) Looks up, so seemeth it, one half repose, One half in effort, straining, suffering still. Arthur Hugh Clough Arthur Hugh Clough's other poems: 1275 Views |
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