COME ye so early, Days of delight? Making the hill-side Blithesome and bright? Merrily, merrily, Little brooks rush, Down by the meadow, Under the bush. Welkin and hill-top, Azure and cool; Fishes are sporting In streamlet and pool. Birds of gay feather Flit through the grove, Singing together, Ditties of love. Busily coming From moss-cover'd bowers, Brown bees are humming, Questing for flowers. Lightsome emotion, Life everywhere; Faint wafts of fragrance Scenting the air. Now comes there sounding A sough of the breeze, Shakes through the thicket, Sinks in the trees. Sinks, but returning, It ruffles my hair; Aid me this rapture, Muses, to bear! Know ye the passion That stirs in me here? Yestre'en at gloaming Was I with my dear! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FROM THE GREATER TESTAMENT (XXII, XXIII, AND XXVI) by FRANCOIS VILLON THE NYMPH COMPLAINING FOR THE DEATH OF HER FAUN [OR, FAWN] by ANDREW MARVELL GOD SAVE THE NATION! by THEODORE TILTON TO A SQUIRREL AT KYLE-NA-NO by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS DISCIPLINE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH 1916 SEEN FROM 1921 by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A MORNING PIECE; WRITTEN IN ABSENCE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN AN ANCIENT GODDESS; IN TWO PICTURES by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN PARLEYINGS WITH CERTAIN PEOPLE OF IMPORTANCE: APOLLO AND THE FATES by ROBERT BROWNING |