TO you light troupe that ryde On movynge wings and glyde Above the world and slake it, And with your murmur soft Move the green shade and oft With gentle tremors shake it— For you I violets cull, And flowers beautiful, These roses and these lilies,— These roses all soe red And newly openéd, These pinks and daffodillies. Nowe with your gentle breath Breathe onthe plaine beneath, And lightly fan this meadowe, Whyle I doe sweat and straine At threshynge of my graine, And noon is without shadowe. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PATCH OF OLD SNOW by ROBERT FROST BINSEY POPLARS (FELLED 1879) by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS COMPARISON OF LOVE TO A STREAM FALLING FROM THE ALPS by THOMAS WYATT SPRING SONG by MAVIS CLARE BARNETT A SUNRISE IN MARCH by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE DEATH OF A.G.A by EMILY JANE BRONTE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 30 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |