The bee is not afraid of me, I know the butterfly ; The pretty people in the woods Receive me cordially. The brooks laugh louder when I come, The breezes madder play. Wherefore, mine eyes, thy silver mists? Wherefore, O summer's day? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ESSAY ON MAN by ALEXANDER POPE THIS COMPOST: 1. by WALT WHITMAN THE MARCH OF XERXES by LUIGI ALAMANNI THE STEAM-ENGINE: CANTO 10. THE DEATH OF HUSKISSON by T. BAKER ON THE DEITY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE COMPLETE MISANTHROPIST by MORRIS GILBERT BISHOP THE BATTLE OF LANGSIDE by JOHN BROWN (1810-1882) BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS: BOOK 1. THE FIFTH SONG by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |