O wild bee humming in the gorse, O wild dove croodling in the woods, Know ye not she is false as fair, A sweet Caprice with bitter moods? For bitter-sweet her wild kiss is, And bitter-sweet her haunting voice: How oft my eyes have filled with tears When she hath bid me to rejoice! O loved Caprice, is thine the fault Or is the bitterness all mine! Art thou the quenchless Thirst of Joy And I the lees of thy spilt wine? Oh, greenness, greenness everywhere, Oh, whisper of green leaves, green grass, Surely the glory is not gone, Surely the glory shall not pass? I long for some lost magic thing, A voice; a gleam, a joy, a pain: Wild doves, your old-time strain once more, Wild bees, wild bees, come back again! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE BOY FOUND, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE EPITAPH ON AN ARMY OF MERCENARIES by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THREE BLIND MICE by MOTHER GOOSE THE SMACK IN SCHOOL by WILLIAM PITT PALMER TO THE UNKNOWN EROS: BOOK 1: 12. MAGNA EST VERITAS by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE |