Full of child-thoughts, and glad at simple things,— Not versed in deep things;—well content to be In green woods or green meadows, or to see The painted butterfly spread sportive wings: Happy in all the joy the blue sky brings, And full of an unfathomed purity: Not clever, great, or learned,—full of glee Silver and soft, that round the hearer clings:— Such is the child: a very simple flower,— Not tall nor grand nor passion-flushed nor red; Full ne'ertheless of her own quiet power, And blossoming queenlike on her own calm bower, And flinging from her fair soft golden head Light that transfigures many a mortal hour. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: THE VILLAGE ATHEIST by EDGAR LEE MASTERS KUBLA KHAN by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE EPITAPH ON AN ARMY OF MERCENARIES by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN ELIOT'S OAK; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW HORATIUS [AT THE BRIDGE], FR. LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME by THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY FIRST LOVE by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS A REMEMBERED FACE by EDMUND JOHN ARMSTRONG TO MRS -- RETURNING FINE HYACINTH PLANT AFTER BLOOM IS OVER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |