The bee is not afraid of me, I know the butterfly ; The pretty people in the woods Receive me cordially. The brooks laugh louder when I come, The breezes madder play. Wherefore, mine eyes, thy silver mists? Wherefore, O summer's day? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DADDY STRAIN by KAREN SWENSON THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 69. AUTUMN IDLENESS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE RUNNER WITH THE LOTS by LEONIE ADAMS THE YELLOWHAMMER by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN IN A LIBRARY by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |