BATHSHEBA came out to the sun, Out to our walled cherry-trees; The tears adown her cheek did run, Bathsheba standing in the sun, Telling the bees. My mother had that moment died; Unknowing, sped I to the trees, And plucked Bathsheba's hand aside; Then caught the name that there she cried Telling the bees. Her look I never can forget, I that held sobbing to her knees; The cherry-boughs above us met; I think I see Bathsheba yet Telling the bees. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON FIRST ENTERING WESTMINSTER ABBEY by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY THE CAVALIER'S SONG by WILLIAM MOTHERWELL THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY HOPE AND FEAR by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE HARMOSAN by RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH A FARM PICTURE by WALT WHITMAN THE SHOEMAKERS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER A RHYMED REVIEW; 'LAUGHING MUSE' (BY ARTHUR GUITERMAN) by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |