O THOU with dewy locks, who lookest down Through the clear windows of the morning, turn Thine angel eyes upon our western isle, Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring! The hills tell one another, and the listening Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turn'd Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth And let thy holy feet visit our clime! Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls Upon our lovesick land that mourns for thee. O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put Thy golden crown upon her languish'd head, Whose modest tresses are bound up for thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: FATHER WHIMSETT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE SHANNON AND THE CHESAPEAKE [JUNE 1, 1813] by THOMAS TRACY BOUVE THE LIVING DEAD by RALPH CHAPLIN THE SHEPHERD OF KING ADMETUS by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL A CALIFORNIA CHRISTMAS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER VERLAINE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |