O THOU with dewy locks, who lookest down Through the clear windows of the morning, turn Thine angel eyes upon our western isle, Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring! The hills tell one another, and the listening Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turn'd Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth And let thy holy feet visit our clime! Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls Upon our lovesick land that mourns for thee. O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put Thy golden crown upon her languish'd head, Whose modest tresses are bound up for thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: WILLIAM AND EMILY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS OCTAVES: 15 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON IN A RAILROAD STATION by SARA TEASDALE DANSE RUSSE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE WHITE CHARGER by ABUS SALT PSALM 23 by HENRY WILLIAMS BAKER HYMN FOR THE ANNIVERSARY OF HARTFORD AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |