Cecil
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.
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"Ye little elves, who haunt sweet dells,..."
Walter De La Mare's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Cecil"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...