Rub the sleep out of your eyes, Judith. Run out to the cold; Cowslips there unpack their gold; In the wet new grass it lies Slender, mutable, and gay, In a flurry of the rain; Run before it is in vain; Gold grows scarcer every day. Doubtless there is still enough To last on from year to year Wildly permanent and clear; Cowslips are not of that stuff. Rosalind had this gathering, too! Run into the house and fill Shelf and corner of the sill; It will last as long as you. Rosalind went. And cowslips must. Girls and cowslips cannot stay Longer than the required day; For the end of gold is dust. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEA UNICORNS AND LAND UNICORNS by MARIANNE MOORE UPON A SPIDER CATCHING A FLY by EDWARD TAYLOR SONNET: HENRY HOWARD BROWNELL by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE MEANING by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE SONNET, TO GENEVRA by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TO THE MOST HIGH AND MIGHTY PRINCE CHARLES by THOMAS CAMPION TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. AFTER CIVILISATION (2) by EDWARD CARPENTER |