Eyes
A winter sky of pale blue and pale gold, Bare trees, a wind that made the wood-path cold, And one slow-moving figure, gray and old. We met where the soft path falls from the wood Down to the village. As I came near she stood And answered when I spoke, drawing the hood Back from her face. I saw only her eyes, Large and sad. I could not bear those eyes. They were like new graves. I could not bear her eyes. But what we said as each passed on is gone. We looked and spoke and passed like strangers on, I to the high wood, she towards the paling sun. And there, where the clear-heavened small pool lies, And the tallest beeches brush the bending skies, In pool and tree I saw again her eyes.
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"A winter sky of pale blue and pale gold,..."
John Frederick Freeman's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Eyes"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...