BUT wandering on the moors at dawn of day, When all the sky was flushed with rosy hue, I saw her white robe dabbled in the dew, Among the sparkling heather where she lay; Sobbing, she turned from me, and murmured "Nay!' Then rising from the ground, she strove anew To turn away, but could not stir, and flew At last into my arms the old sweet way; And Love, that watched us ever from afar, Came fluttering to our side, and cried, "O ye, Who think to fly, ye cannot fly from me; Lo! I am with you always where you are!" Yet henceforth are we twain and are not three, Though Love is on our foreheads like a star. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRIDE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THAT VAGRANT MISTRAL VEXING THE SUN: A FAR CRY by DARA WIER THE CORNELIAN by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE CHARIOT by EMILY DICKINSON MENAPHON: SEPHESTIA'S [CRADLE] SONG TO HER CHILD by ROBERT GREENE ADDRESS TO THE OCEAN by BRYAN WALLER PROCTER |