@2I@1N vernal grove a poplar slim Queening it over every tree, Lithest grace in girth and limb, Slender little sovereign she;— A feeble trope, a whilom whim,— No poplar is a peer for thee! Through azure air a soft young cloud, Lit with the sun, and floating free: About her all the heavens are bowed To guard and keep caressingly;— But nay, my lady Gracious-Proud, How shall a cloud compare with thee? On autumn nights the harvest moon Touching with magic land and sea, And in the hearts of men the tune Of far, forgotten minstrelsy;— Though shod with wandering music-shoon, The mellow moon's no match for thee! Sweetheart, no longer I'll essay To seek thy like in cloud or tree That come, and bless, and pass away, Striving forever how to be; For all my guardian-angels say Perfection's perfected in @3thee!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A WEALTHY MAN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ON MY JOYFUL DEPARTURE FROM THE CITY OF COLOGNE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE GOLD-OF-OPHIR ROSES by GRACE ATHERTON DENNEN THE FIRE OF DRIFTWOOD; DEVEREUX FARM, NEAR MARBLEHEAD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ON PLOUGHING by EVELYN D. BANGAY SONNET: 3 by RICHARD BARNFIELD |