DOWN in a marsh by the water's brink I found a bloom of the palest pink; And I watched it close and loved it well, For it touched my heart with a mystic spell. Till at last I plucked the flower fair And bore it home, and summoned there A friend, to give me its proper name, Where it lived and its right to fame. He told me then. But it sounded harsh; In my ignorance by the lonesome marsh I had called it @3Child-of-my-Soul@1, and smiled To think of its beauty growing wild. @3He told me more; but every word Was wisdom such as I wished unheard.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 14 by JAMES JOYCE HYBRIDS OF WAR: A MORALITY POEM: 1. VIETNAM by KAREN SWENSON SONGS AND THE POET (FOR SARA TEASDALE) by LOUIS UNTERMEYER TO A CAPTIOUS CRITIC by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR EPITAPH ON THE TOMB OF SIR EDWARD GILES AND HIS WIFE by ROBERT HERRICK ON THE DEATHS OF THOMAS CARLYLE AND GEORGE ELIOT by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE A RECEIPT TO CURE THE VAPOURS by MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU |