Sick is Anthea, sickly is the spring, The Primrose sick, and sickly every thing: The while my deer Anthea do's but droop, The Tulips, Lillies, Daffadills do stoop; But when again sh'as got her healthfull houre, Each bending then, will rise a proper flower. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MORNING IN CAMP by HERBERT BASHFORD WINGED MAN by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET NAPOLEON by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE LET THE LIGHT ENTER (THE DYING WORDS OF GOETHE) by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER ODE [ON THE POETS] by JOHN KEATS IMPRESSION DU MATIN by OSCAR WILDE HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 42 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |