They gather lilies down the stream, A net of willows drooping low Hides boat from boat; and to and fro Sweet whispered confidences seem 'Mid laughing trills to flow. In the green deeps a shaft of gold Limns their elaborate attire; Through silken sleeves the winds aspire, Embalmed, to stray, and, growing bold, Swell them to their desire. But who are these, the cavaliers That gleam along the river-side? By three, by five they prance with pride Beyond the willow-line that sheers Over the trellised tide. A charger neighs; one turns to start, Crushing the kingcups as he flies, And one pale maiden vainly tries To hush the tumult in her heart And veil the secret of her eyes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A WINTER TWILIGHT by ANGELINA WELD GRIMKE WHERE THE PICNIC WAS by THOMAS HARDY MONTEREY [SEPTEMBER 23, 1846] by CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN BITTERNESS by VICTORIA MARY SACKVILLE-WEST AIRY NOTHINGS. FR. THE TEMPEST by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |