ALICE is tall and upright as a pine, White as blanch'd almonds, or the falling snow, Sweet as are damask roses when they blow, And doubtless fruitful as the swelling vine. Ripe to be cut, and ready to be press'd, Her full cheek'd beauties very well appear, And a year's fruit she loses ev'ry year, Wanting a man t' improve her to the best. Full fain she would be husbanded, and yet, Alas! she cannot a fit Lab'rer get To cultivate her to her own content: Fain would she be (God wot) about her task, And yet (forsooth) she is too proud to ask, And (which is worse) too modest to consent. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN UNINSCRIBED MONUMENT - BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS by HERMAN MELVILLE THE MAYFLOWERS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER CAPITAL SQUARE by PATRICK JOHN MCALISTER ANDERSON HUSH OF TWILIGHT by G. KENYON ASHENDEN EPITAPH ON MR. VAUX, THE PHYSICIAN by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) PARLEYINGS WITH CERTAIN PEOPLE OF IMPORTANCE: FUST AND FRIENDS by ROBERT BROWNING |