MY Mira, shepherds, is as fair As sylvan nymphs who haunt the vale, As sylphs who dwell in purest air, As fays who skim the dusky dale, As Venus was when Venus fled From watery Triton's oozy bed. My Mira, shepherds, has a voice As soft as Syrinx in her grove, As sweet as echo makes her choice, As mild as whispering virgin-love; As gentle as the winding stream, Or fancy's song when poets dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOW WE BEAT THE FAVOURITE by ADAM LINDSAY GORDON ANIMAL TRANQUILITY AND DECAY; A SKETCH by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH WHEN I WAS YOUNG by IRMA TIBBETTS ANDREWS AT FONT-GEORGES by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE TWELVE SONNETS: 9. WEARINESS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |