MAIDEN, thou sittest alone above, Crowned with flowers, and like a sprite Starrily clothed in a garment white: Thou art the only maiden I love, And a soul of fondness to thee I bring, Thy glorious beauty homaging,— But ah! thou wearest a golden ring. Maiden, thou'st broken no vow to me, But undone me alone with gentleness, Wasting upon me glances that bless; And knew'st that I never was born for thee. No hope, no joy; yet never more My heart shall murmur; now 'tis o'er, I'll bless thee dying at the door. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A HYMN [TO THE NAME AND] IN HONOR OF SAINT TERESA by RICHARD CRASHAW THE ARMADA; A FRAGMENT by THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY COLIN AND LUCY by THOMAS TICKELL CASTLES IN THE AIR by JAMES BALLANTYNE A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 21 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A WOMAN'S SONNETS: 4 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 23 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |