There is a well, a willow-shaded spot, Cool in a noon-tide gleam, With rushes nodding in the little stream, And blue forget-me-not Set in thick tufts along the bushy marge With big bright eyes of gold; And glorious water plants like fans unfold, Their blossoms strange and large. That wondering boy, young Hylas, did not find Beauties so rich and rare, Where swallow-wort and bright maiden's hair And dog-grass richly twined. A sloping bank ran round it like a crown, Whereon a purple cloud Of dark wild hyacinths, a fairy crowd Had settled softly down. And dreaming sounds of never-ending bells, From Oxford's holy towers Came down the stream, and went among the flowers, And died in little swells. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SOLILOQUY; OCCASIONED BY THE CHIRPING OF A GRASSHOPPER by WALTER HARTE SOUL AND BODY by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE DRINKING ODE by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE THE ADMIRABLE CONVERSION OF S. PAUL by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE NAME OF LOVE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET PSALM 132 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE TREE-BURIAL by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT BIRD MINSTRELS by GRACE E. BUSH A SONG OF ARLA, DURING HER ENTHUSIASM by ANNE BATTEN CRISTALL |