E'en though her tongue may by its force Leave me as helpless as a horse, When saucy pup doth bark at him -- I'll love her better for that whim. No steady summer's love for me, But let her still uncertain be; Like spring, whose gusts, and frowns, and showers, Do grow us fresher, lovelier flowers. No substances on earth can make The joy I from her shadow take; When first I saw her face, I could Not help draw near her where she stood; I felt more joy than when a Bee Sees in a garden a Plum tree All blossoms and no leaves, and he Leaps o'er the fence immediately. I like to see her when she sits -- Not dreaming I look on -- and knits; To see her hands, with grace so light, Stabbing the wool that's red or white; With shining needles, sharp and long, That never seem to go far wrong. And that sight better pleases me Than green hills in the sun; to see The beach, what time the tide goes out, And leaves his gold spread all about. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUNKEN GOLD by EUGENE JACOB LEE-HAMILTON ELIOT'S OAK; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW; ON HIS BIRTHDAY, 27 FEB. 1867 by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE BURDEN OF NINEVEH by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE WATER-LILY by JOHN BANISTER TABB THE END OF THE PLAY by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY THE FOLLY OF BEING COMFORTED by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ODE TO THE CONNECTICUT RIVER by JOSIAS LYNDON ARNOLD TO THE GIRL WHO HELPED IN THE WAR by JOSEPHINE DODGE DASKAM BACON |