They gather lilies down the stream, A net of willows drooping low Hides boat from boat; and to and fro Sweet whispered confidences seem 'Mid laughing trills to flow. In the green deeps a shaft of gold Limns their elaborate attire; Through silken sleeves the winds aspire, Embalmed, to stray, and, growing bold, Swell them to their desire. But who are these, the cavaliers That gleam along the river-side? By three, by five they prance with pride Beyond the willow-line that sheers Over the trellised tide. A charger neighs; one turns to start, Crushing the kingcups as he flies, And one pale maiden vainly tries To hush the tumult in her heart And veil the secret of her eyes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ROPEWALK by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW PSALME 137 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE MY MOTHER by BEULAH VICK BICKLEY INTRODUCTORY AND VALEDICTORY by LEVI BISHOP EPITAPH by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN FILIPPO BALDINUCCI ON THE PRIVILEGE OF BURIAL by ROBERT BROWNING |