Tell her, oh, tell her, the lute she left lying Beneath the green arbor is still lying there; And breezes like lovers around it are sighing, But not a soft whisper replies to their prayer. Tell her, oh, tell her, the tree that, in going, Beside the green arbor she playfully set, As lovely as, ever is blushing and blowing, And not a, bright leaflet has fallen from it yet. So while away from that arbor forsaken, The maiden is wandering, still let her be As true as the lute that no sighing can waken And blooming for ever, unchanged as the tree! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY FAMILIAR DREAM by PAUL VERLAINE TO A POET THAT DIED YOUNG by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY GATHERING SONG OF DONALD [OR, DONUI DHU] THE BLACK by WALTER SCOTT BEGGAR TO BEGGAR CRIED by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS Γενεθλιακον by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |