O LADY FLORA, let me speak; A pleasant hour has passed away While, dreaming on your damask cheek, The dewy sister-eyelids lay. As by the lattice you reclined, I went thro' many wayward moods To see you dreaming -- and, behind, A summer crisp with shining woods. And I too dream'd, until at last Across my fancy, brooding warm, The reflex of a legend past, And loosely settled into form. And would you have the thought I had, And see the vision that I saw, Then take the broidery-frame, and add A crimson to the quaint macaw, And I will tell it. Turn your face, Nor look with that too-earnest eye -- The rhymes are dazzled from their place And order'd words asunder fly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BIRTH SONG OF CHRIST by EDMUND HAMILTON SEARS THE HIGH-PRIEST TO ALEXANDER by ALFRED TENNYSON THE BIRDS: THE BUILDING OF CLOUDCUCKOOCITY by ARISTOPHANES UNTO US A CHILD IS BORN by AGNES H. BEGBIE THE THINKER'S VISION by WILLIAM ROSE BENET HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 34 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH RIZPAH by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT |