Ye little elves, who haunt sweet dells, Where flowers with the dew commune, I pray you hush the child, Cecil, With windlike song. O little elves, so white she lieth, Each eyelid gentler than the flow'r Of the bramble, and her fleecy hair Like smoke of gold. O little elves, her hands and feet The angels muse upon, and God Hath shut a glimpse of Paradise In each blue eye. O little elves, her tiny body Like a white flake of snow it is, Drooping upon the pale green hood Of the chill snowdrop. O little elves, with elderflower, And pimpernel, and the white hawthorn, Sprinkle the journey of her dreams: And, little elves, Call to her magically sweet, Lest of her very tenderness She do forsake this rough brown earth And return to us no more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VIRTUOSO; IN IMITATION OF SPENCER'S STYLE AND STANZA by MARK AKENSIDE THE FUNERAL by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE TO E. T.: 1917 by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE GOLDEN TARGE by WILLIAM DUNBAR THE GYPSY by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS WITH A COPY OF CALVERLEY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |