This tender Psyche-service of thee, sweet, Brings thee the nearer. Whiter is thy heart, Purer thy being in its every part: Towards me thou comest now with bird-swift feet. Thou hast endured the labour and the heat; Rest now beneath the shadow of my Art! No longer, rose, thy straggling tendrils dart On all sides, searching for some soft retreat! My Art is unto thee thy God-sent bower, And thou within it art the gracious rose, Its one presiding ever-present flower. Lo! Art above thee her green mantle throws: Wait,—tarry patient for one mortal hour; Then, ever safe within my arms repose! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INEVITABLE by SARAH KNOWLES BOLTON VISION OF BELSHAZZAR by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TURTLE SOUP by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON THE DEAD HEROES by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE MOCKING-BIRD by FRANK LEBBY STANTON AS THE NEW YEAR [18 B.C.] DAWNED by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS FABLE: 16 by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT |