With thy strong tide of beauty I must go, Where my love leads I follow in her tow; And all my hope is that I sing for her Fresh songs whose breath is April's all the year. There, with the flowers and butterflies, and bees That grumble more the more their blossoms please -- We'll live secure from this vain world's pretence, Till we acquire a second innocence. We'll shun all human scandal, though our words May oft discuss the private life of birds; And prying into every move and sound, Surprise a bee before his blossom's found. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LIGHT'OOD FIRE by JOHN HENRY BONER THE BOSTON EVENING TRANSCRIPT by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT THE SUPPLIANT by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE LOVE'S JUSTIFICATION by MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI PHILLIS'S AGE by MATTHEW PRIOR LOCHABER NO MORE by ALLAN RAMSAY |