ART thou beautiful, O my daughter, as the budding rose of April? Are all thy motions music, and is poetry throned in thine eye? Then hearken unto me; and I will make the bud a fair flower, I will plant it upon the bank of Elegance, and water it with the water of Cologne; And in the season it shall "come out," yea bloom, the pride of the parterre; Ladies shall marvel at its beauty, and a Lord shall pluck it at the last. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANCHORED TO THE INFINITE by EDWIN MARKHAM THE WANTS OF MAN by JOHN QUINCY ADAMS |