OH fairest of the rural maids! Thy birth was in the forest shades; Green boughs, and glimpses of the sky, Were all that met thy infant eye. Thy sports, thy wanderings, when a child, Were ever in the sylvan wild; And all the beauty of the place Is in thy heart and on thy face. The twilight of the trees and rocks Is in the light shade of thy locks; Thy step is as the wind, that weaves Its playful way among the leaves. Thy eyes are springs, in whose serene And silent waters heaven is seen; Their lashes are the herbs that look On their young figures in the brook. The forest depths, by foot unpressed, Are not more sinless than thy breast; The holy peace, that fills the air Of those calm solitudes, is there. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON LENDING A PUNCH BOWL by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES RENASCENCE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY FOR THE BED AT KELMSCOTT by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 77. SOUL'S BEAUTY by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE TRANSLATION by MARK VAN DOREN FRIDAY NIGHT by ISIDORE G. ASCHER |