'T WAS summer, and the spot a cool retreat -- Where curious eyes came not, nor footstep rude Disturbed the lovers' chosen solitude: Beneath an oak there was a mossy seat, Where we reclined, while birds above us wooed Their mates in songs voluptuously sweet. A limpid brook went murmuring by our feet, And all conspired to urge the tender mood. Methought I touched the streamlet with a flower, When from its bosom sprang a fountain clear, Falling again in the translucent shower Which made more green each blade of grass appear: "This stream's thy heart," I said; "Love's touch alone Can change it to the fount which maketh green my own." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 13 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN IN SICKNESS (1714) by JONATHAN SWIFT A BATTLE BALLAD TO GENERAL J.E. JOHNSTON by FRANCIS ORRERY TICKNOR BALLAD: THE THINGS OF NO ACCOUNT by FRANCOIS VILLON A CUCKOO SONG by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT DEATH IN A BALL-ROOM by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 39 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |