FOR thee this woven garland have I braided And bring it, lady, from a virgin field, Where never shepherd dares to feed his flocks Nor ever comes the scythe; unsullied, it Is traversed only by the vernal bee, Tended with river-dew by Modesty. But those who need no teaching -- for their hearts Belong to shamefastness in everything -- Those have the right to reap it, not the evil. Do thou, beloved lady, take this garland From reverent hands to bind thy golden hair. Alone of men I have this privilege; To you I speak, with you keep company, Your voice I hear, but may not see your face. May my last course be as my life began. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BROTHERHOOD by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE LOST CHORD by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER LOVE LIES BLEEDING by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI NORTHERN FARMER, OLD STYLE by ALFRED TENNYSON THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION; A POEM. ENLARGED VERSION: BOOK 2 by MARK AKENSIDE |