LATELY on yonder swelling bush, Big with many a coming rose, This early bud began to blush, And did but half itself disclose; I plucked it, though no better grown, Yet now you see how full 'tis blown. Still as I did the leaves inspire, With such a purple light they shone, As if they had been made of fire, And spreading so, would flame anon, All that was meant by air, or sun, To this young flower, my breath has done. If our loose breath so much can do, What may the same in forms of love? Of purest love and music, too When Flavia it aspires to move; When that which liveless buds persuades To wax more soft, her youth invades | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MENTAL TRAVELLER by WILLIAM BLAKE PARTING AT MORNING by ROBERT BROWNING TO OUR BLESSED LADY (1) by HENRY CONSTABLE SONNET ON SITTING DOWN TO READ KING LEAR ONCE AGAIN by JOHN KEATS THE CHILD ALONE: 3. MY KINGDOM by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON ONE WOMAN by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |