When rosy plumelets tuft the larch, And rarely pipes the mounted thrush, Or underneath the barren bush Flits by the sea-blue bird of March; Come, wear the form by which I know Thy spirit in time among thy peers; The hope of unaccomplish'd years Be large and lucid round thy brow. When summer's hourly-mellowing change May breathe, with many roses sweet, Upon the thousand waves of wheat That ripple round the lowly grange, Come; not in watches of the night, But where the sunbeam broodeth warm, Come, beauteous in thine after form, And like a finer light in light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PAINS OF SLEEP by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE IVY GREEN by CHARLES DICKENS A MIDSUMMER'S NOON IN THE AUSTRALIAN FOREST by CHARLES HARPUR IN HOSPITAL: 2. WAITING by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY FRINGED GENTIANS by AMY LOWELL THE LOVER TO THE THAMES OF LONDON TO FAVOUR HIS LADY ... by GEORGE TURBERVILLE EASTER DAY [IN ROME] by OSCAR WILDE |