WE'LL go no more the woodland way, the laurel-leaves are clipt, The little cupids in the pool, the naiads on the sill Behold again the sunlit wave where beam and shadow dipt On waters poured from cups they held, now silent grown and still. The laurel-leaves are clipt, and the weary stag at bay Now trembles at the sounding horn; we'll go no more astray Where troops of lovely children once went frolicking their fill Beneath the glance of lilies dewy-eyed and dewy-lipt. Behold the scythe that shears the grass, the shattered leaves that spill! We'll go no more the woodland way, the laurel-leaves are clipt. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LANDSCAPE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS RIDDLE: A CANDLE by MOTHER GOOSE ODES IV, 7. TO TORQUATUS. DIFFUGERE NIVES by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS OFF BARNEGAT by ETHEL LYNN BEERS THE FOREST POOL by GRACE BLAINE IN REFERENCE TO HER CHILDREN, 23 JUNE, 1659 by ANNE BRADSTREET IN ANSWER OF AN ELEGIACAL LETTER UPON THE DEATH OF THE KIND OF SWEDEN by THOMAS CAREW |