Ye little elves, who haunt sweet dells,
Where flowers with the dew commune,
I pray you hush the child, Cecil,
With windlike song.
O little elves, so white she lieth,
Each eyelid gentler than the flow'r
Of the bramble, and her fleecy hair
Like smoke of gold.
O little elves, her hands and feet
The angels muse upon, and God
Hath shut a glimpse of Paradise
In each blue eye.
O little elves, her tiny body
Like a white flake of snow it is,
Drooping upon the pale green hood
Of the chill snowdrop.
O little elves, with elderflower,
And pimpernel, and the white hawthorn,
Sprinkle the journey of her dreams:
And, little elves,
Call to her magically sweet,
Lest of her very tenderness
She do forsake this rough brown earth
And return to us no more.
Cecil
Walter De La Mare
(1)
Poem topics: child, god, green, hair, journey, snow, song, pray, blue, earth, forsake, brown, return, paradise, gold, body, glimpse, I love you, I miss you, sweet, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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