WOULD that my sire had brought me up to feed The happy bleaters of the fleecy flocks! 'Twould soothe my sorrow then to breathe the reed Beneath the shade of elms or hanging rocks. Now let us fly; and other cities seek To be our country, dear Pierides: But I my mind to all will plainly speak Injurious drones have harmed the honey-bees. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WRAITH by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY A DESCRIPTION OF SUCH A ONE AS HE WOULD LOVE by THOMAS WYATT ON THE DEATH OF MR. JAMES VALENTINE by JAMES HAY BEATTIE POETRY: WHAT IS IT? by LEVI BISHOP THE FLIRT by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR CHARADES: 3 by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY ODE TO WINTER by THOMAS CAMPBELL TO THE MOST PRINCELY AND VERTUOUS THE LADY ELIZABETH by THOMAS CAMPION |