Yon wand'ring rill that marks the hill, And glances o'er the brae, Sir, Slides by a bower, where mony a flower Sheds fragrance on the day, Sir; There Damon lay, with Sylvia gay, To love they thought no crime, Sir, The wild birds sang, the echoes rang, While Damon's heart beat time, Sir. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VILLA PAULINE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE MOUNTAIN WHIPPOORWILL (A GEORGIA ROMANCE) by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THEY HAVEN'T HEARD THE WEST IS OVER by JAMES GALVIN THE MAN TO BE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 2. LOS CIGARILLOS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |