LITHE and long as the serpent train, Springing and clinging from tree to tree, Now darting upward, now down again, With a twist and a twirl that are strange to see; Never took serpent a deadlier hold, Never the cougar a wilder spring, Strangling the oak with the boa's fold, Spanning the beach with the condor's wing. Yet no foe that we fear to seek, -- The boy leaps wild to thy rude embrace; Thy bulging arms bear as soft a cheek As ever on lover's breast found place; On thy waving train is a playful hold Thou shalt never to lighter grasp persuade, While a maiden sits in thy drooping fold, And swings and sings in the noonday shade! O giant strange of our Southern woods! I dream of thee still in the well-known spot, Though our vessel strains o'er the ocean floods, And the northern forest beholds thee not; I think of thee still with a sweet regret, As the cordage yields to my playful grasp, -- Dost thou spring and cling in our woodlands yet? Does the maiden still swing in thy giant clasp? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: THE COWARD by RUDYARD KIPLING THE LAST CAESAR, 1851-1870 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH TO MR. BARBAULD, WITH A MAP OF THE LAND OF MATRIMONY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THREE PASTORAL ELEGIES: 1 by WILLIAM BASSE NOT YE WHO GOAD by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON THEN AND NOW by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |