When rosy plumelets tuft the larch, And rarely pipes the mounted thrush, Or underneath the barren bush Flits by the sea-blue bird of March; Come, wear the form by which I know Thy spirit in time among thy peers; The hope of unaccomplish'd years Be large and lucid round thy brow. When summer's hourly-mellowing change May breathe, with many roses sweet, Upon the thousand waves of wheat That ripple round the lowly grange, Come; not in watches of the night, But where the sunbeam broodeth warm, Come, beauteous in thine after form, And like a finer light in light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IT JUST SO HAPPENS by JAMES GALVIN FROM THE SHORE by CARL SANDBURG WINGED MAN by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE EVENING WIND by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT DAMON THE MOWER by ANDREW MARVELL CATHOLIC HYMN by EDGAR ALLAN POE AN EVENING by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM TO GEORGE CRUIKSHANK, ESQ., ON SEEING HIS PICTURE ... by MATTHEW ARNOLD |