ALONG the river's side did Cynthia stray, More like a Goddess, than a Nymph, at play; The flood stopt to behold her; pleas'd to see't, She to its kisses yields her naked feet. Brisk air saluted her, ne'er stay'd to woo; The very boughs reach'd to be toying too; The little birds came thronging to admire, And for her entertainment made a choir: The meadows smile, and joy surrounds the place, As if all things were infl'enc'd by her face; The grass and leaves take freshness from her eyes, And as of lesser force, Sol's beams despise. No herb press'd by her foot but blossoms straight, Flowers, for her touch to ripen them, do wait; They, from her hand, new fragrancy do yield, Her presence fills with perfumes all the field. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CLAY BISON IN A CAVE by CLARENCE MAJOR HIS MOTHER'S SERVICE TO OUR LADY by FRANCOIS VILLON TO MY CHILDREN: 3 by DOLLIE CAROLINE MAITLAND RADFORD THE PIKER'S RUBAIYAT by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 1. ALLAH by EDWIN ARNOLD |