CLOUDS spout upon her Their waters amain In ruthless disdain, - Her who but lately Had shivered with pain As at touch of dishonour If there had lit on her So coldly, so straightly Such arrows of rain: One who to shelter Her delicate head Would quicken and quicken Each tentative tread If drops chanced to pelt her That summertime spills In dust-paven rills When thunder-clouds thicken And birds close their bills. Would that I lay there And she were housed here! Or better, together Were folded away there Exposed to one weather We both, - who would stray there When sunny the day there, Or evening was clear At the prime of the year. Soon will be growing Green blades from her mound, And daisies be showing Like stars on the ground, Till she form part of them - Ay - the sweet heart of them, Loved beyond measure With a child's pleasure All her life's round. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BALLAD OF THE FRENCH FLEET; OCTOBER, 1746 by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE STORY OF ZERBIN AND ISABELLA, FR. ORLANDO FURIOSO by LUDOVICO (LODOVICO) ARIOSTO IN ENVY OF COWS by JOSEPH AUSLANDER THE LAY OF ST. NICHOLAS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM AFTER CHURCH by SAMUEL ALFRED BEADLE THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET A HOP AT SARATOGA by LEVI BISHOP |