I.

Elizabeth! Elizabeth!

The first May-morning whispereth

Thy gentle name in every breeze

That lispeth through the young-leaved trees,

New raimented in white and green

Of bloom and leaf to crown thee queen;--

And, as in odorous chorus, all

The orchard-blossoms sweetly call

Even as a singing voice that saith

Elizabeth! Elizabeth!

Green Fields and Running Brooks, and Other Poems · 第 99 / 151 题