How blithe you are, and tall, And oh, so good to see! How eager with the ball And for its mastery! You rise, a laughing joy, Intent that all the day No rougher youngling boy A better game shall play. At tennis how you run — The net is nought to leap! On your flushed cheek the sun, Your eyes brown-bright from sleep! At golf how free your arm; The waves know its caress. Grief takes a quick alarm At your sweet sprightliness! Your crown the mightiest queen Must envy, laughing maid: Who would not be thirteen, So tall, and unafraid! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER A LECTURE ON KEATS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE: THE POWER OF MUSIC by SAMUEL LISLE PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 7. AL-MAUMIN by EDWIN ARNOLD THE SEEKERS by LUCIA TREVITT AURYANSEN LILIES: 9. BENEATH LOFTIER STARS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) VERSES TO HER WHO IS JUSTLY ENTITLED TO THEM by BERNARD BARTON FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: A LOFTY MIND by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |