SWEET Iphigenia-soul of every day, Fair vine so trellised to the parent-stay Thou hast no single force, no separate will, But leaning grow'st, and flowering, leanest still; In that walled garden where thou dwell'st alone Thou art the whitest blossom ever known! Less full and ample than our English rose Whose generous freshness floods the garden-close, And less confiding to the gatherer's hand Than their forget-me-not o' the Fatherland, Yet, O French Lily, pure and grown apart, Thee none the less I treasure next my heart! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: THE JURY DELIBERATES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A PSALM OF TRAVEL by GEORGE SANTAYANA EGERTON MANUSCRIPT: 104. JOPAS'S SONG by THOMAS WYATT A LETTER FROM ITALY by JOSEPH ADDISON ODE TO A HUMAN HEART by SAMUEL LAMAN BLANCHARD THE SACK OF BALTIMORE by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS |