THOU art but in life's morning, and as yet The world looks witchingly: its fruits and flowers Are fair and fragrant, and its beauteous bowers Seem haunts of happiness, before thee set, All lovely as a landscape freshly wet With dew, or bright with sunshine after showers; Where pleasure dwells, and Flora's magic powers Woo thee to pluck joy's peerless coronet. Thus be it ever: wouldst thou have it so, Preserve thy present openness of heart; Cherish those generous feelings which now start At base dissimulation, and that glow Of native love for ties which home endears, And thou wilt find the world no vale of tears. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL BISHOP HATTO [AND THE RATS] by ROBERT SOUTHEY AN HYMN OF HEAVENLY BEAUTY by EDMUND SPENSER MAPLE LEAVES by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE FADED VIOLET by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH AN EPITAPH UPON THE DEATH OF SIR PHILIP SIDNEY by RICHARD BARNFIELD |