Explore "Poems" by Elinor Jenkins on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
While the wind low o'er the green pool creeps / Spoiling with kisses the wood's mirrored beauty, / Kneel we close down by the margin preparing / To launch the frail craft on those perilous deeps.
Swift the wind takes them, we lean to see / Over the water gallantly faring / Forth our fantastical argosy.