Explore "Where shall I look for thee" by Bliss Carman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Where shall I look for thee, / Where find thee now, / O my lost Atthis?
Storm bars the harbour, / And snow keeps the pass / In the blue mountains.
Bitter the wind whistles, / Pale is the sun, / And the days shorten.
Close to the hearthstone, / With long thoughts of thee, / Thy lonely lover
Sits now, remembering / All the spent hours / And thy fair beauty.
Ah, when the hyacinth / Wakens with spring, / And buds the laurel,
Doubt not, some morning / When all earth revives, / Hearing Pan's flute-call
Over the river-beds, / Over the hills, / Sounding the summons,
I shall look up and behold / In the door, / Smiling, expectant,
Loving as ever / And glad as of old, / My own lost Atthis!