THESE springs were maidens once that loved, But, lost to that they most approved, My story tells, by Love they were Turned to these springs which we see here; The pretty whimpering that they make, When of the banks their leave they take, Tells ye but this, they are the same, In nothing changed but in their name. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A VIRTUOUS YOUNG GENTLEWOMAN THAT DIED SUDDENLY by WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT AN ORDER FOR A PICTURE by ALICE CARY TO SHAKESPEARE by DAVID HARTLEY COLERIDGE GOBLIN MARKET by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI HEATHER ALE: A GALLOWAY LEGEND by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON PSALM 86 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE HE TOOK MY PLACE by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR A GOTHAMITE IN CAMELOT by BERTON BRALEY BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS: BOOK 3. THE FIRST SONG by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |