COME, Mary, come, the morning dawns, Fair streaks of lustre tinge the skies! -- Come, let us rove the up-land lawns, And watch the early lark arise. And from the sweetly scented grove We'll listen to the ring-dove's tale, And watch the silver clouds above, As o'er the azure vault they sail. Our flocks, that on the meadows graze, Anon they range the verdant hills; But flee from noon's intenser blaze, And ramble round the limpid rills. Come, Mary, come, and bring thy lute, As evening shows her mantle grey; And join in concert, with my flute, A vesper of the departing day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY LOVE COULD WALK by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES NIGHTFALL IN DORDRECHT by EUGENE FIELD ON THE DANGER OF WAR by GEORGE MEREDITH HE FELL AMONG THIEVES by HENRY JOHN NEWBOLT TO A HIGHLAND GIRL; AT INVERSNAID, UPON LOCH LOMOND by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH TO THE SMALL CELANDINE (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH T.T. IN COMMENDATION OF THE AUTHOR HIS WORKE by RICHARD BARNFIELD |