Sick is Anthea, sickly is the spring, The Primrose sick, and sickly every thing: The while my deer Anthea do's but droop, The Tulips, Lillies, Daffadills do stoop; But when again sh'as got her healthfull houre, Each bending then, will rise a proper flower. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HELMSMAN by HILDA DOOLITTLE ODE SUNG IN THE TOWN HALL, CONCORD, JULY 4, 1857 by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE WILLIAM P. FRYE [FEBRUARY 28, 1915] by JEANNE ROBERT FOSTER A SOLILOQUY; OCCASIONED BY THE CHIRPING OF A GRASSHOPPER by WALTER HARTE THE COURTSHIP OF THE YONGHY-BONGHY-BO by EDWARD LEAR |