Rub the sleep out of your eyes, Judith. Run out to the cold; Cowslips there unpack their gold; In the wet new grass it lies Slender, mutable, and gay, In a flurry of the rain; Run before it is in vain; Gold grows scarcer every day. Doubtless there is still enough To last on from year to year Wildly permanent and clear; Cowslips are not of that stuff. Rosalind had this gathering, too! Run into the house and fill Shelf and corner of the sill; It will last as long as you. Rosalind went. And cowslips must. Girls and cowslips cannot stay Longer than the required day; For the end of gold is dust. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A CHILD DANCING IN THE WIND: 2 by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS EVENING HYMN by REGINALD HEBER TWILIGHT by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE A CHARACTER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD TOY DAY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |