Sweet Bridget blusht, & therewithall, Fresh blossoms from her cheekes did fall. I thought at first 'twas but a dream, Till after I had handled them; And smelt them, then they smelt to me, As Blossomes of the Almond Tree. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FOREST MAID by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT CRUCIFIXION TO THE WORLD BY THE CROSS OF CHRIST by ISAAC WATTS A YOUTH TO HIS FATHER by WALTER R. ADAMS LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 7. MIDSUMMER by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM SONNETS FOR NEW YORK CITY: 2. A POLITICAL 'BOSS' by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH DESERTED DERRICK by MARY ELIZABETH BRANTLEY |