Am I a Pagan? Am I set at nought Because I worship here in English air The Goddess whom Keats' fancy found so fair,— The Paphian Venus whom his genius brought Hither, and whom with homage deep he sought? The English breeze is sweeter for her hair Outspread upon it; and our roses rare Tints of the Goddess' amorous cheeks have caught. Her light of beauty is upon our hills: She haunts our Isis, and her sweet eyes shine On sun-kissed ripples of our Northern rills, And her white limbs repose 'neath birch and pine, And our grey waves with marvellous foot she thrills, Grecian and English,—and as both divine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH THE LEVELLER, FR. THE CONTENTION OF AJAX AND ULYSSES by JAMES SHIRLEY ICHABOD by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER PSALM 133 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 26 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT TO NATURE by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH BACH'S ORGAN WORKS by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |