COME you, Mary, there's a dear! Mind no more the plaguy dairy! Milk can never match your white— Come you, Mary! All the music of my scythe Sang you in the heated meadow; And I thought your shape behind Every shadow! Down with pails, and bring those lips (Roseleaves in the happy dairy) To the chestnut where we kiss— Come you, Mary! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IDLENESS by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL A FAREWELL TO AMERICA, TO MRS. S. W. by PHILLIS WHEATLEY COMPANIONSHIP by MABEL WARREN ARNOLD THE WOLD WAGGON by WILLIAM BARNES HAPPY CHRISTMASTIDE by GERTRUDE ELOISE BEALER |