THE mist has left the greening plain, The dew-drops shine like fairy rain, The coquette rose awakes again Her lovely self adorning. The Wind is hiding in the trees, A sighing, soothing, laughing tease, Until the rose says "Kiss me, please," 'Tis morning, 'tis morning. With staff in hand and careless-free, The wanderer fares right jauntily, For towns and houses are, thinks he, For scorning, for scorning. My soul is swift upon the wing, And in its deeps a song I bring; Come, Love, and we together sing, "'Tis morning, 'tis morning." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE, NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY BOOKS by WILLIAM COWPER THE PRESENT CRISIS by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL HEAVEN by NANCY WOODBURY PRIEST ON THE DEATH OF MR. JAMES VALENTINE by JAMES HAY BEATTIE THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 60. THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE BURIAL OF ROBERT BROWNING by KATHERINE HARRIS BRADLEY THE SHEPHERD'S PIPE: FOURTH ECLOGUE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |