The morning blush is like Azile made, Azile's cheeks are like the morning blush, If fair Aurora please to be the shade, Why should Azile scorn to be the bush? Thou art that bush, Azile, under whom My buskin Muse sings free from country strife, Thou art that Lotus to whose shade I come, To sup my milk, and sport away my life, That when thou seest my harmless sports excel, Thou may'st remember once thou knew'st me well. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TOMB AT AKR CAAR by EZRA POUND APPRECIATION by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH EPIGRAM: 14. TO WILLIAM CAMDEN by BEN JONSON TO A CERTAIN CIVILIAN by WALT WHITMAN THE SWALLOWS by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS THE LUNCH by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH EPITAPH by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |