BEHOLD yon' hill, how it is swell'd with pride, And that aspiring oak upon its side, With how much scorn they overlook the plain, Proud of the lovely guest they entertain. See with what haste those crystal springs do flow, T' incorporate with the silver brook below; There does my wanton Cynthia sporting stand, Printing her footsteps on the yielding sand. Look, Thyrsis, how she fills with joy the place, She bathes her feet, and views her angel's face; Sure I've a rival of that amorous hill, And those are streams of tears which thence distil. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR THE INVESTITURE by CECIL DAY LEWIS BEFORE DAWN; SONNET by AMY LOWELL I PAY MY DEBT FOR LAFAYETTE AND ROCHAMBEAU' by EDGAR LEE MASTERS BETRAND AND GOURGAUD TALK OVER OLD TIMES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DOW BRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EDITH CONANT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ELIZABETH CHILDERS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |