Explore "Some Verses: Sonnets: MY BROOK" by Helen Hay Whitney on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Earth holds no sweeter secret anywhere / Than this my brook, that lisps along the green / Of mossy channels, where slim birch trees lean / Like tall pale ladies whose delicious hair / Lures and invites the kiss of wanton air.
The smooth soft grasses, delicate between / The rougher stalks, by waifs alone are seen, / Shy things that live in sweet seclusion there.
And is it still the same, and do these eyes / Of every silver ripple meet the trees / That bend above like guarding emerald skies? / I turn -- who read the city's beggared book / And hear across the moan of many seas / The whisper and the laughter of my brook.