WHEN lambs were come, who could be slow and sere? When lambs were come, and each black thorny rod Lit up with seraph birth and budded clear, Fresh as the lambs and clouds, and smiled at God. The clay-green from the river solved away Till all was crystal; who the crystal conned Saw where blue pike with their wild lasses lay, And by old ragstones the new waving frond. And many a girl by tinkling pastures stood With primrose brow toward eve's single gem, And waited in the bright ethereal mood For one who then would kiss her garments' hem, Some don and darling of our rural sphere, That now, this soon-come spring, goes slow and sere. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHAT WE SAID THE LIGHT SAID by JAMES GALVIN SUMMER NIGHT-BROADWAY by LOUIS UNTERMEYER FREEDOM AND LOVE by THOMAS CAMPBELL ON SOMETHING THAT WALKS SOMEWHERE by BEN JONSON ROSE AYLMER by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE DOUBLE-HEADED SNAKE OF NEWBURY by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE NURSE'S STORY: THE HAND OF GLORY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |