A pinch of spice, a crust of fairy bread, With wild bees' honey and with comfits spread, A stalk of cherries, a wild strawberry's stain, And two small crumpled rose-leaves wet with rain; -- Such for her cheeks: but O, now for her hair, What sunbeams cast such shadowiness, and where? But for her eye, I think some woodland elf Laughed in that looking-glass to see himself. And when she sighed in dreams, a drowsy wren Hopped her sweet mouth into from off her chin, And in her throat entwined a tiny nest Wherein to pipe the song a wren knows best. . . Lo! then, the house where dwells, O, who can say -- A soul still winking at the break of day; From those bright starry windows still to peep And shut those shutters when 'tis time to sleep; To op'n those scarlet doors, and learn to cry How sweet a 'you', how wonderful an 'I'! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY [OR, DAFFYDOWNDILLY] by MOTHER GOOSE MAN, THE MAN-HUNTER by CARL SANDBURG THE END OF THE PLAY by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): EROS AND HIS MOTHER by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS THE SCOTTISH CHRISTMAS by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN DECLASSE by ANNA EMILIA BAGSTAD TRAVELLER BY NIGHT, SELECTION by JOANNA BAILLIE VERSES TO HER WHO IS JUSTLY ENTITLED TO THEM by BERNARD BARTON |