Paul Laurence Dunbar
A Bridal Measure
Come, essay a sprightly measure,
Tuned to some light song of pleasure.
Maidens, let your brows be crowned
As we foot this merry round.
From the ground a voice is singing,
From the sod a soul is springing.
Who shall say 't is but a clod
Quick'ning upward toward its God?
Who shall say it? Who may know it,
That the clod is not a poet
Waiting but a gleam to waken
In a spirit music-shaken?
Phyllis, Phyllis, why be waiting?
In the woods the birds are mating.
From the tree beside the wall,
Hear the am'rous robin call.
Listen to yon thrush's trilling;
Phyllis, Phyllis, are you willing,
When love speaks from cave and tree,
Only we should silent be?
When the year, itself renewing,
All the world with flowers is strewing,
Then through Youth's Arcadian land,
Love and song go hand in hand.
Come, unfold your vocal treasure,
Sing with me a nuptial measure,--
Let this springtime gambol be
Bridal dance for you and me.
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Comments about this poem (A Bridal Measure by Paul Laurence Dunbar )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- A Kind Exit, Mae AC.
- Yesterday, ramesh rai
- Shooting Stars, Cyndi K. Encinares Gacosta
- In bed, Cyndi K. Encinares Gacosta
- From Destiny's Palm, Savita Tyagi
- Your silence, ramesh rai
- My body is my enemy, gajanan mishra
- No Tears For Me, vince gullaci
- season of fall autumn, binod bastola
- Coming to you I said, gajanan mishra