THEY took them from the woodland glade Where they awoke Beneath the sprouting hawthorn shade,-- Before the chestnut leaves were spread, Long ere the buds burst on the oak, Or yet the lime was flecked with red, And smiled on spring with love-dewed eyes. They took them from the sweet spring air, They took them from the sweet spring skies, They took them for they were so fair,-- And they are dead. They took her from the woodland cot Where she had birth, And seasons of her even lot Passed light and happy o'er her head, And her glad heart laughed in young mirth: She was too beautiful, they said, To gladden some poor rustic's days ; They took her from obscurity, They gave her worship, gave her praise, But she had need of love more high-- And she is dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO TIRZAH, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE DEPARTURE OF THE GOOD DAEMON by ROBERT HERRICK A CONTEMPLATION UPON FLOWERS by HENRY KING (1592-1669) EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: BOMBER IN LONDON by RUDYARD KIPLING DEATH OF THE DAY by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR |