You ask why I am sad to-day,
I have no cares, no griefs, you say?
Ah, yes, 't is true, I have no grief--
But--is there not the falling leaf?
...
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Linguistically this is not really interesting. It has rhythm but the rhyme is sometimes far-fetched (bier-dear) . A very different league than Yeats or Shelley!
I am stymied by my search for the word I should use to describe this poem. Beautiful- -no, not exactly, though it has so many lines of such exquisite beauty. Sad- - -no, not exactly, though it mourns for loss- -be it a tree for its leaves, a season for its birds, a mother for her child., yet there is an aspect beyond personal sadness. I think that the word I could use to describe this poem is compassion, involvement in the world, an intense involvement, that reminds me that no man is an island.... so this is a beautiful, sad, compassionate love poem. [love for our fellow man, love for our fellow creatures].
Count me a Buddha of compassionate eyes.