MY harp is out of tune, and so I take An oaten straw some shepherd dropped of old. It is the hour when Beauty doth awake With trembling limbs upon the dewy cold. And shapes of green show where the woolly fold Slept in the winding shelter of the brake. This I will pipe for you, how all the year The one I love like Beauty takes her way. Wrapped in the wind of winter she doth cheer The loud woods like a sunbeam of the May. This I will pipe for you the whole blue day Seated with Pan upon the mossy weir. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A WINTER PIECE by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT TORTOISE SHELL by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE SEVEN SAD SONNETS: 1. THE HAPPENING by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS LULLABY IN BETHLEHEM by HENRY HOWARTH BASHFORD THE WIND AND THE WHIRLWIND by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT SONNET TO THE SEA SERPENT by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD NEIGHBOR NELLY by ROBERT BARNABAS BROUGH |