YET was there one ... Not learned, save in gracious household ways, Not perfect, nay, but full of tender wants, No Angel, but a dearer being, all dipped In Angel instincts, breathing Paradise, Interpreter between the Gods and men, Who looked all native to her place.... Happy he With such a mother! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him, and though he trip and fall He shall not blind his soul with clay. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN WALKED BUD WITH A PALETTE by CLARENCE MAJOR A CRADLE SONG, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE AFTER THE QUARREL by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR DIXIE by DANIEL DECATUR EMMETT THE SUBALTERNS by THOMAS HARDY A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 50 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE RUNES ON WELAND'S SWORD by RUDYARD KIPLING ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL, FR. ROSALIND [ROSALYNDE] by THOMAS LODGE |