Bring, bring to deck my brow, ye Sylvan girls, A roseate wreath; nor for my waving hair The costly band of studded gems prepare, Of sparkling crysolite or orient pearls: Love, o'er my head his canopy unfurls, His purple pinions fan the whispering air; Mocking the golden sandal, rich and rare, Beneath my feet the fragrant woodbine curls. Bring the thin robe, to fold about my breast, White as the downy swan; while round my waist Let leaves of glossy myrtle bind the vest, Not idly gay, but elegantly chaste! Love scorns the nymph in wanton trappings dressed; And charms the most concealed, are doubly graced. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AND THE GREATEST OF THESE IS WAR by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON AN EPITAPH UPON HUSBAND AND WIFE WHO DIED AND WERE BURIED by RICHARD CRASHAW TO A LILY by JAMES MATHEWES LEGARE MY MOTHER'S BIBLE by GEORGE POPE MORRIS FLOWERS WITHOUT FRUIT by JOHN HENRY NEWMAN EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 23. SOONER WOUNDED THAN CURED by PHILIP AYRES VERSES WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF AN OLD VISITATION COPY OF ARMS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |