To you, let snow and roses And golden locks belong: These are the world's enslavers, Let these delight the throng. But for her of duskier lustre, Whose favour still I wear, The snow be in her kirtle, The rose be in her hair! The hue of Highland rivers Careering, full and cool, From sable on to golden, From rapid on to pool -- The hue of heather-honey, The hue of honey-bees, Shall tinge her golden shoulder, Shall gild her tawny knees. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MOTLEY: MUSIC by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE LAVENDER'S BLUE (1) by MOTHER GOOSE THESE ENDURE by MARION H. ADDINGTON PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 27. AS-SAMI'H by EDWIN ARNOLD PSALM 39, VERSE 4 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |