From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud-pied April dress'd in all his trim Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing, That heavy Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew; Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. Yet seem'd it winter still, and, you away, As with your shadow I with these did play: | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AMERICA by JAMES MONROE WHITFIELD TIPPERARY: 5. BY OUR OWN EUGENE FIELD by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE MORAL FABLES: THE TALE OF THE TWO MICE by AESOP PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 44. ALLAH-AL-RAKIB by EDWIN ARNOLD THE PASQUE FLOWER by STELLA PFEIFFER BAISCH WHITENESS, OR CHASTITY by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |