NOT for the myrtle, and not for the vine, Though its grape, like a gem, be the sunbeam's shrine; And not for the rich blue heaven that showers Joy on thy spirit, like light on the flowers; And not for the scent of the citron trees -- Fair peasant! I call thee not blest for these. Not for the beauty spread over thy brow, Though round thee a gleam, as of spring, it throw; And not for the lustre that laughs from thine eye, Like a dark stream's flash to the sunny sky, Though the south in its riches naught lovelier sees -- Fair peasant! I call thee not blest for these. But for those breathing and loving things -- For the boy's fond arm that around thee clings, For the smiling cheek on thy lap that glows, In the peace of a trusting child's repose -- For the hearts whose home is thy gentle breast, Oh! richly I call thee, and deeply blest! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE ORIGIN OF SONG-WRITING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD AN UNANSWERABLE APOLOGY FOR THE RICH by MARY BARBER II PETER II 22 by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TO ONE ON HER BIRTHDAY (2) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A MEMORY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |