HOPE wafts my bark, and round my way Her pleasant sunshine lies; For I sail with a royal argosy To win a royal prize. A maiden sits in her loveliness On the shore of a distant stream, And over the waters at her feet The lilies float, and dream. She reaches down, and draws them in, With a hand that hath no stain; And that lily of all the lilies, her hand, Is the prize I go to gain. Her hair in a yellow flood falls down From her forehead low and white; I would bathe in its billowy gold, and dream, In its sea of soft delight. Her cheek is as fair as a tender flower, When its blushing leaves dispart; Oh, my rose of the world, my regal rose, I must wear you on my heart! I must kiss your lips, so sweetly closed O'er their pearly treasures fair; Or strike on their coral reef, and sink In the waves of my dark despair! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ACROSS THE RED SKY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD HELEN, THE SAD QUEEN by PAUL VALERY EUROPE A PROPHECY by WILLIAM BLAKE ON A PORTRAIT OF WORDSWORTH BY B.R. HAYDON by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SORROW by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE |