AN hour before the dawn, My friend, You lit your waiting bedside-lamp, Your breakfast-fire anon, And outing into the dark and damp You saddled, and set on. Thuswise, before the day, My friend, You sought her on her surfy shore, To fetch her thence away Unto your own new-builded door For a staunch lifelong stay. You said: "It seems to be, My friend, That I were bringing to my place The pure brine breeze, the sea, The mews -- all her old sky and space, In bringing her with me!" -- But time is prompt to expugn, My friend, Such magic-minted conjurings: The brought breeze fainted soon, And then the sense of seamews' wings, And the shore's sibilant tune. So, it had been more due, My friend, Perhaps, had you not pulled this flower From the craggy nook it knew, And set it in an alien bower; But left it where it grew! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...METAMORPHOSES: BOOK 8. BAUCIS AND PHILEMON by PUBLIUS OVIDIUS NASO A CONSISTENT GIRL by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE DREAM THAT CRACKED A WHIP by FRANCES AIRTH QUESTION AND ANSWER by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE THIRD OF NOVEMBER, 1861 by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT |