(H. C. B.) AMONG my best I put your Book, O Poet of the breeze and brook! (That breeze and brook which blows and falls More soft to those in city walls) Among my best: and keep it still Till down the fair grass-girdled hill, Where slopes my garden-slip, there goes The wandering wind that wakes the rose, And scares the cohort that explore The broad-faced sun-flower o'er and o'er Or starts the restless bees that fret The bindweed and the mignonette. Then I shall take your Book, and dream I lie beside some haunted stream; And watch the crisping waves that pass, And watch the flicker in the grass; And wait -- and wait -- and wait to see The Nymph ... that never comes to me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE TURTLE by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY LA BELLA BONA ROBA by RICHARD LOVELACE MISTRESS FATE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET JIM'S WHIP by BARCROFT HENRY BOAKE AND IF THE SONG SHOULD DIE? by ANNIE HATCH BOORNAZIAN THE WILD HUNTSMAN by GOTTFRIED AUGUST BURGER |