She's like the daisey on the hill
That upward turns his eye
As if he thought the small white clouds
Where daiseys in the sky

She is the wood Anemonie
Sae droopin' & sae true
In sic' like shades she luvs to be
Bloomin' in draps o' dew

She is the goud spink on the thorn
Sae lovely in her sang
She is the gouden light o' morn
As beautifull & young

The richest chord of Poesy
The sweetest note they sing
She is the poets pleasant dreams
& every pleasant thing

The all thats beautifull & sweet
The all thats good & fair
Is my true lover when we meet
Where summers wild flowers are
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.