I FOUND a flower in the wood, Growing softly by some water; Had I plucked it when I could,— The old wild-wood's fairy daughter— Not thus vainly had I sought her. So deep a spell was on me laid, I might not stretch my hand to take her, So fragile she, I was afraid Even my lightest touch would break her— And now, alas, what voice shall wake her! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JONAH'S SONG, FR. MOBY DICK by HERMAN MELVILLE VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1878 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNET: 12 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE ABBOT OF INISFALEN by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM APRIL by OBADIAH CYRUS AURINGER BODY AND SOUL by AWHAD AD-DIN 'ALI IBN VAHID MUHAMMAD KHAVARANI IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: GOD IS MY WITNESS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |