THOU maid of gentle light! thy straw-wove vest, And russet cincture; thy loose pale-tinged hair; Thy melancholy voice, and languid air, As if, shut up within that pensive breast, Some ne'er-to-be-divulged grief was prest; Thy looks resign'd, that smiles of patience wear, While Winter's blasts thy scatter'd tresses tear; Thee, Autumn, with divinest charms have blest! Let blooming Spring with gaudy hopes delight That dazzling Summer shall of her be born, Let Summer blaze; and Winter's stormy train Breathe awful music in the ear of Night; Thee will I court, sweet dying maid forlorn, And from thy glance will catch th' inspired strain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LAST SIGNAL by THOMAS HARDY BLUE HOURS: 1. CLOUD-HORSE by RICK BAROT THE ZONNEBEKE ROAD by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN EPITAPH ON NICOL OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, EDINBURGH by ROBERT BURNS THE SEXTON AND THE THERMOMETER by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 33 by THOMAS CAMPION |