THE imperial Consort of the Fairy-king Owns not a sylvan bower; or gorgeous cell With emerald floored, and with purpureal shell Ceilinged and roofed; that is so fair a thing As this low structure, for the tasks of Spring, Prepared by one who loves the buoyant swell Of the brisk waves, yet here consents to dwell; And spreads in steadfast peace her brooding wing. Words cannot paint the o'ershadowing yew-tree bough, And dimly-gleaming Nest, -- a hollow crown Of golden leaves inlaid with silver down, Fine as the mother's softest plumes allow: I gazed -- and, self-accused while gazing, sighed For human-kind, weak slaves of cumbrous pride! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW A WINTER WISH by ROBERT HINCKLEY MESSINGER THE EQUESTRIAN STATUE OF WASHINGTON by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER SONG: A LADY, RESCUED FROM DEATH BY A KNIGHT, WHO LEAVES HER by THOMAS CAREW |