O fortunate fields through which Madonna goes, And you, O happy, happy flowers and sweet, O upland who her gentle accent knows And bears the dainty imprint of her feet, O saplings lithe and early, verdant sprays, O love-lorn violets pale, O forest dim Which beauty's sun hath pierced with his rays And drawn in proud florescence unto him; O limpid stream that laves her lovely face, Her luminous eyes, and doth their radiance share, O primrose path, I envy you the grace Of tender, loyal servitude you bear! That is not kindled with my passionate pains. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ALFRED MOIR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS WITH WHOM IS NO VARIABLENESS, NEITHER SHADOW OF TURNING' by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH LOVE TO THE CHURCH by TIMOTHY DWIGHT A TRAMPWOMAN'S TRAGEDY by THOMAS HARDY MONTEREY [SEPTEMBER 23, 1846] by CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 71. THE CHOICE (1) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |