Questioning
The murdered traveller (William Cullen Bryant)
Posted 01-22-2009 at 10:17 AM by itSFMe
Below, a sad story poem. It reminds me of a Dutch poem called "the suicider", though it's not that much alike 
However, both are about a body left in nature and found only after a long time...
Maybe it is also the fact that in that poem I like two lines especially, and in this one the same: "The mountain wolf and wild-cat stole, to banquet on the dead"
WHEN spring, to woods and wastes around,
Brought bloom and joy again,
The murdered traveller's bones were found,
Far down a narrow glen.
The fragrant birch, above him, hung
Her tassels in the sky;
And many a vernal blossom sprung,
And nodded careless by.
The red-bird warbled, as he wrought
His hanging nest o'erhead,
And fearless, near the fatal spot,
Her young the partridge led.
But there was weeping far away,
And gentle eyes, for him,
With watching many an anxious day,
Were sorrowful and dim.
They little knew, who loved him so,
The fearful death he met,
When shouting o'er the desert snow,
Unarmed, and hard beset;--
Nor how, when round the frosty pole
The northern dawn was red,
The mountain wolf and wild-cat stole
To banquet on the dead;
Nor how, when strangers found his bones,
They dressed the hasty bier,
And marked his grave with nameless stones,
Unmoistened by a tear.
But long they looked, and feared, and wept,
Within his distant home;
And dreamed, and started as they slept,
For joy that he was come.
So long they looked--but never spied
His welcome step again,
Nor knew the fearful death he died
Far down that narrow glen.
However, both are about a body left in nature and found only after a long time... Maybe it is also the fact that in that poem I like two lines especially, and in this one the same: "The mountain wolf and wild-cat stole, to banquet on the dead"
WHEN spring, to woods and wastes around,
Brought bloom and joy again,
The murdered traveller's bones were found,
Far down a narrow glen.
The fragrant birch, above him, hung
Her tassels in the sky;
And many a vernal blossom sprung,
And nodded careless by.
The red-bird warbled, as he wrought
His hanging nest o'erhead,
And fearless, near the fatal spot,
Her young the partridge led.
But there was weeping far away,
And gentle eyes, for him,
With watching many an anxious day,
Were sorrowful and dim.
They little knew, who loved him so,
The fearful death he met,
When shouting o'er the desert snow,
Unarmed, and hard beset;--
Nor how, when round the frosty pole
The northern dawn was red,
The mountain wolf and wild-cat stole
To banquet on the dead;
Nor how, when strangers found his bones,
They dressed the hasty bier,
And marked his grave with nameless stones,
Unmoistened by a tear.
But long they looked, and feared, and wept,
Within his distant home;
And dreamed, and started as they slept,
For joy that he was come.
So long they looked--but never spied
His welcome step again,
Nor knew the fearful death he died
Far down that narrow glen.
Total Comments 2
Comments
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ooopsPosted 01-23-2009 at 12:10 AM by GrannyPeggy
Updated 01-23-2009 at 12:11 AM by GrannyPeggy (wron post) -
Very sad indeed... but at least when he was alive he had someone who cared for him.Posted 01-23-2009 at 12:22 AM by Aventura
