THOU wast a maiden fair, so good and kindly, So neat, so cool -- in vain I waited blindly Till came the hour wherein thy gentle heart Would ope, and inspiration play its part. Yea, inspiration for those lofty things Which prose and reason deem but wanderings, But yet for which the noble, lovely, good Upon this earth rave, suffer, shed their blood. Upon the Rhine's fair strand, where vine-hills smile, Once in glad summer days we roam'd the while; Bright laugh'd the sun, sweet incense in that hour Stream'd from the beauteous cup of every flower. The purple pinks and roses breath'd in turn Red kisses on us, which like fire did burn; Even the smallest daisy's faint perfume Appear'd a life ideal then to bloom. But thou didst peacefully beside me go, In a white satin dress, demure and slow, Like some girl's portrait limn'd by Netscher's art, A little glacier seem'd to be thy heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CORNELIAN by GEORGE GORDON BYRON NAMES by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE CHIQUITA by FRANCIS BRET HARTE POPPIES IN THE WHEAT by HELEN MARIA HUNT FISKE JACKSON GIVE ME THY HEART by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER MELANCHOLY by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS THE COTTAGER TO HER INFANT by DOROTHY WORDSWORTH THE OLD MEN ADMIRING THEMSELVES IN THE WATER by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |