Will you sleep these dark hours, maiden, Beneath the vine that rested Its slender boughs, so purply-laden, All the day around that elm In the mead, nightingale-nested, Which you dark hill wears for an helm, Pasture-robed and forest-crested? There the night of lovely hue Peeps the fearful branches through, And ends in those two eyes of blue. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HE RULETH NOT THROUGH HE RAIGNE OVER REALMES by THOMAS WYATT FRIDAY NIGHT by ISIDORE G. ASCHER VERSES WRITTEN IN THE LEAVES OF AN IVORY POCKET-BOOK by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD NELL COOK; A LEGEND OF THE 'DARK ENTRY': THE KING'S SCHOLAR'S STORY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM ANNIVERS: BAPTISMT by JOSEPH BEAUMONT COMPENSATION by E. M. BRAINARD MATRIMONIAL MELODIES: 3. SYSTEM by BERTON BRALEY THE SAILING LIST by BERTON BRALEY ANTHEM FOR THE CHILDREN OF CHRIST'S HOSPITAL by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |