Explore "The Unknowing" by Virna Sheard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
If the bird knew how through the wintry weather / An empty nest would swing by day and night, / It would not weave the strands so close together / Or sing for such delight.
And if the rosebud dreamed e'er its awaking / How soon its perfumed leaves would drift apart, / Perchance 'twould fold them close to still the aching / Within its golden heart.
If the brown brook that hurries through the grasses / Knew of drowned sailors -- and of storms to be -- / Methinks 'twould wait a little e'er it passes / To meet the old grey sea.
If youth could understand the tears and sorrow, / The sombre days that age and knowledge bring, / It would not be so eager for the morrow / Or spendthrift of the spring.
If love but learned how soon life treads its measure, / How short and swift its hours when all is told, / Each kiss and tender word 'twould count and treasure, / As misers count their gold.