Before the sun rose at yester-dawn, I met a fair maid adown the lawn; The berry and snow to her cheek gave its glow, And her bosom was fair as the sailing swan. Then, pulse of my heart! what gloom is thine? Her beautiful voice more hearts hath won Than Orpheus' lyre of old had done; Her ripe eyes of blue were crystals of dew, On the grass of the lawn before the sun. And, pulse of my heart! what gloom is thine? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOTHING WILL CURE THE SICK LION BUT TO EAT AN APE' by MARIANNE MOORE A FOOL, A FOUL THING, A DISTRESSFUL LUNATIC by MARIANNE MOORE APPELLATE JURISDICTION by MARIANNE MOORE THE MIDNIGHT SKATERS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A DEPOSITION FROM LOVE by THOMAS CAREW HAARLEM HEIGHTS by ARTHUR GUITERMAN |