COME you, Mary, there's a dear! Mind no more the plaguy dairy! Milk can never match your white— Come you, Mary! All the music of my scythe Sang you in the heated meadow; And I thought your shape behind Every shadow! Down with pails, and bring those lips (Roseleaves in the happy dairy) To the chestnut where we kiss— Come you, Mary! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TOWARD THE GULF; DEDICATED TO THEODORE ROOSEVELT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS INFANT JOY, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE FRIENDS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS IMAGES: 3 by RICHARD ALDINGTON ABRAHAM by JOHN STUART BLACKIE ON SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS by WILLIAM BLAKE THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: AUTUMN by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |