WHEN flower-time comes and all the woods are gay, When linnets chirrup and the soft winds blow, Adown the winding river I will row, And watch the merry maidens tossing hay, And troops of children shouting in their play, And with my thin oars flout the fallen snow Of heavy hawthorn-blossom as I go, -- And shall I see my love at fall of day When flower-time comes? Ah, yes! for by the border of the stream She binds red roses to a trim alcove, And I may fade into her summer-dream Of musing upon love, -- nay, even seem To be myself the very god of love, When flower-time comes! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PICTURES OF MEMORY by ALICE CARY UPON THE DEATH OF SIR ALBERT MORTON'S WIFE by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 92 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI ADVICE TO A LADY [IN AUTUMN] by PHILIP DORMER STANHOPE VILLAGE GREEN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE TRAMPS by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE HANDS THAT HANG DOWN by ADA CAMBRIDGE SONGS OF THE SEA CHILDREN: 60 by BLISS CARMAN TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. EASTER DAY ON MT. MOUNIER by EDWARD CARPENTER |