It was no dull tho' lonely strand Where thyme ran o'er the solid sand, Where snap-dragons with yellow eyes Lookt down on crowds that could not rise, Where Spring had fill'd with dew the moss In winding dells two strides across. There tiniest thorniest roses grew To their full size, nor shared the dew: Acute and jealous, they took care That none their softer seat should share; A weary maid was not to stay Without one for such churls as they. I tugg'd and lugg'd with all my might To tear them from their roots outright; At last I did it .. eight or ten .. We both were snugly seated then; But then she saw a half-round bead, And cried, @3Good gracious! bow you bleed!@1 Gently she wiped it off, and bound With timorous touch that dreadful wound. To lift it from its nurse's knee I fear'd, and quite as much fear'd she, For might it not increase the pain, And make the wound burst out again? She coaxt it to lie quiet there With a low tune I bent to hear; How close I bent I quite forget, I only know I hear it yet. Where is she now? Call'd far away, By one she dared not disobey, To those proud halls, for youth unfit, Where princes stand and judges sit. Where Ganges rolls his widest wave She dropt her blossom in the grave; Her noble name she never changed, Nor was her nobler heart estranged. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PASSER-BY by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE BLACK RIDERS: 9 by STEPHEN CRANE FIFTY FAGGOTS by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS BROWN OF OSSAWATOMIE [DECEMBER 2, 1859] by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 16. CUPID HIMSELF STUNG by PHILIP AYRES A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 4 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |