Lo, as the thrushes' throats Throb with their golden notes The river's silver dress Shakes in the wind's caress. The gently cooing dove (Dost thou not hear, my love?) Is stirred to ecstasy, Being so close to thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHANSON INNOCENTE: 2 by EDWARD ESTLIN CUMMINGS UNGRATEFULNESS by GEORGE HERBERT THE WISTFUL DAYS by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON THE FARMER'S BRIDE by CHARLOTTE MEW THE TENT ON THE BEACH: 3. THE GRAVE BY THE LAKE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER PARACELSUS: 2. PARACELSUS ATTAINS by ROBERT BROWNING ELEGIAC STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF SIR PETER PARKER, BART. by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |