WHEN summer o'er her native hills A veil of beauty spread, She sat and watched her gentle flocks And twined her flaxen thread. The mountain daisies kissed her feet; The moss sprung greenest there; The breath of summer fanned her cheek And tossed her wavy hair. The heather and the yellow gorse Bloomed over hill and wold, And clothed them in a royal robe Of purple and of gold. There rose the skylark's gushing song, There hummed the laboring bee; And merrily the mountain stream Ran singing to the sea. But while she missed from those sweet sounds The voice she sighed to hear, The song of bee and bird and stream Was discord to her ear. Nor could the bright green world around A joy to her impart, For still she missed the eyes that made The summer of her heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BEAUTIFUL by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES UNDER A THOUSAND WORDS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A PERFECT SONNET by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE TRAGIC MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS: 1 by KATHERINE HARRIS BRADLEY ASOLANDO: THE CARDINAL AND THE DOG by ROBERT BROWNING THE TWO MOTHERS by VIRGINIA BULLOCK-WILLIS |