TARRY no longer, Maid most sweet To bind thy tresses in array, For I can hear in sunshine beat The sanguine heart of holiday. Come in thy homespun frock to me Than velvets of a queen more fair, And let this gipsy weather be The cordial playmate of thy hair. The hyacinth and the harebell blue Are married in the cloudless dome; The lark is almost out of view Above the wife that keeps his home. I grant the bird on fire with song, And yet despise his narrow zest: Could he but hear how broad and strong The chant that thunders in my breast! For I to-day with thee am paired To wander woods and follow streams, With brow and spirit finely bared, And heart unpacked of fevering dreams. And where beside some leisured brook Moss spreads an emerald counterpane, Deep in thy soul my soul shall look For heaven and angels; not in vain. Then shall it profit me to learn Thy starry stature, and to fear That of a sudden thou may'st burn A lamp too bright for me to bear. And when in Mother Mary's fold The eyes of lambkins, silver-fleeced, Begin to sparkle as of old Along the hillside of the east, Home will I take thee, and entrust Thine excellence to solitude, Incredulous that man is dust, And sure of angels in the wood. Tarry no longer, Maid most sweet, To bind thy tresses in array, For I can hear in sunshine beat The sanguine heart of holiday. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE'S APPARITION AND EVANISHMENT; AN ALLEGORICAL ROMANCE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE VERSES TO AN INFANT by BERNARD BARTON THE CAMPUS IN VACATION by ANNE MILLAY BREMER THE FOUNDER OF THE FEAST by ROBERT BROWNING SERMONS IN STONES by ALICE CARY BLANK VERSE. WRITTEN ON THE SEA SHORE by HANNAH COWLEY |