IF thy soul, Herrick, dwelt with me, This is what my songs would be: Hints of our sea-breezes, blent With odors from the Orient; Indian vessels deep with spice; Star-showers from the Norland ice; Wine-red jewels that seem to hold Fire, but only burn with cold; Antique goblets, strangely wrought, Filled with the wine of happy thought; Bridal measures, vain regrets, Laburnum buds and violets; Hopeful as the break of day; Clear as crystal; new as May; Musical as brooks that run O'er yellow shallows in the sun; Soft as the satin fringe that shades The eyelids of thy fragrant maids; Brief as thy lyrics, Herrick, are, And polished as the bosom of a star. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN EVANGELIST'S WIFE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE SHEPHERD, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE SONNET TO A NEGRO IN HARLEM by HELENE JOHNSON EPICOENE; OR, THE SILENT WOMAN: FREEDOM IN DRESS by BEN JONSON FEELINGS OF A REPUBLICAN ON THE FALL OF BONAPARTE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY INGRATITUDE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |