I KNEW a maid; her form and face Were lily-slender, lily-fair; Hers was a wild unconscious grace, A ruddy-golden crown of hair. Thro' those child-eyes unchecked, untamed, The happy thoughts transparent flew, Yet some pathetic touch had tamed To gentler grey their Irish blue. So from her oak a Dryad leant To look, with wondering glance and gay, Where Jove, uncrowned and kingly, went With Maia down the woodland way. Their glory lit the amorous air; The golden touched the Olympian head; But Zephyr o'er Cyllene bare That secret the Immortals said. The nymph they saw not, passing nigh; She melted in her leafy screen; But from the boughs that seemed to sigh A dewdrop trembled on the green. That nymph her oak for aye must hold; The girl has life and hope, and she Shall hear one day the secret told, And roam herself in Arcady. I see her still; her cheek aglow, Her gaze upon the future bent; As one who through the world will go Beloved, bewitching, innocent. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FAERY FOREST by SARA TEASDALE DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 4. THE MOON'S ORCHESTRA by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 3. BY HER AUNT'S GRAVE by THOMAS HARDY THE OLD HOKUM BUNCOMBE by ROBERT EMMET SHERWOOD COMMENDATORY VERSE FOR THE FAERIE QUEENE by H. B. STANZAS by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON TO THE LORD LOVE (AT THE APPROACH OF OLD AGE) by KATHERINE HARRIS BRADLEY A PLAIN ACCOUNT OF THE NATURE AND DESIGN OF TRUE RELIGION by JOHN BYROM |