I bended unto me a bough of May,
That I might see and smell:
It bore it in a sort of way,
It bore it very well.
But, when I let it backward sway,
Then it were hard to tell
With what a toss, with what a swing,
The dainty thing
Resumed its proper level,
And sent me to the devil.
I know it did--you doubt it?
I turned, and saw them whispering about it.
I Bended Unto Me A Bough
Thomas Edward Brown
(1)
Poem topics: smell, hard, doubt, level, devil, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about I Bended Unto Me A Bough poem by Thomas Edward Brown
Best Poems of Thomas Edward Brown