O fortunate fields through which Madonna goes, And you, O happy, happy flowers and sweet, O upland who her gentle accent knows And bears the dainty imprint of her feet, O saplings lithe and early, verdant sprays, O love-lorn violets pale, O forest dim Which beauty's sun hath pierced with his rays And drawn in proud florescence unto him; O limpid stream that laves her lovely face, Her luminous eyes, and doth their radiance share, O primrose path, I envy you the grace Of tender, loyal servitude you bear! That is not kindled with my passionate pains. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DIVINATION BY A DAFFADILL by ROBERT HERRICK THE WASTE PLACES by JAMES STEPHENS THE TENT ON THE BEACH: 8. THE CABLE HYMN by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE INCURABLE; A SONG by PHILIP AYRES ON THE DEATH OF MRS. MARTINEAU by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |