Poets •
Biographies •
Poems by Themes •
Random Poem •
The Rating of Poets • The Rating of Poems |
||
|
Poem by Lewis Morris To a Child of Fancy THE nests are in the hedgerows, The lambs are on the grass ; With laughter sweet as music Thy hours lightfooted pass, My darling child of fancy, My winsome prattling lass. Blue eyes, with long brown lashes, Thickets of golden curl, Red little lips disclosing Twin rows of fairy pearl, Cheeks like the apple blossom, Voice lightsome as the merle. A whole Spring's fickle changes In every short-lived day, A passing cloud of April, A flowery smile of May, A thousand quick mutations From graver moods to gay. Far off, I see the season When thy childhood's course is run, And thy girlhood opens wider Beneath the growing sun, And the rose begins to redden, But the violets are done. And further still the summer, When thy fair tree, fully grown, Shall burgeon, and grow splendid With blossoms of its own, And the fruit begins to gather, But the buttercups are mown. If I should see thy autumn, 'Twill not be close at hand, But with a spirit vision, From some far distant land. Or, perhaps, I hence may see thee Amongst the angels stand. I know not what of fortune The future holds for thee, Nor if skies fair or clouded Wait thee in days to be, But neither joy nor sorrow Shall sever thee from me. Dear child, whatever changes Across our lives may pass, I shall see thee still for ever, Clearly as in a glass, The same sweet child of fancy, The same dear winsome lass. Lewis Morris Lewis Morris's other poems: 1287 Views |
|
English Poetry. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |