O SWEET and charitable friend, Your gift of fragrant bloom Has brought the spring-time and the woods, To cheer my lonesome room. It rests my weary, aching eyes, And soothes my heart and brain; To see the tender green of the leaves, And the blossoms wet with rain. I know not which I love the most, Nor which the comeliest shows, The timid, bashful violet, Or the royal-hearted rose: The pansy in her purple dress, The pink with cheek of red, Or the faint, fair heliotrope, who hangs, Like a bashful maid, her head. For I love and prize you one and all, From the least low bloom of spring To the lily fair, whose clothes outshine The raiment of a king. And when my soul considers these, The sweet, the grand, the gay, I marvel how we shall be clothed With fairer robes than they; And almost long to sleep, and rise And gain that fadeless shore, And put immortal splendor on, And live, to die no more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A PORTRAIT OF WORDSWORTH BY B.R. HAYDON by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ON MONSIEUR'S DEPARTURE by ELIZABETH I DISCONTENTS IN DEVON by ROBERT HERRICK TO HIS WINDING-SHEET by ROBERT HERRICK TOM MOONEY by WILLIAM ELLERY LEONARD THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |