Get out the microscope, because we’re going through this poem
line-by-line. At length slow evening came: They went with
pitchers to the reedy brook; Lizzie most placid in her look,
Laura most like a leaping flame. - That evening, Laura and
Lizzie head down to the brook to fill their "pitchers" with
water. - Lizzie is calm, or "placid," as usual, but Laura's all
hot and bothered, like "a leaping flame." They drew the gurgling
water from its deep; Lizzie pluck'd purple and rich golden
flags, Then turning homeward said: "The sunset flushes Those
furthest loftiest crags; Come, Laura, not another maiden lags.
No wilful squirrel wags, The beasts and birds are fast asleep."
But Laura loiter'd still among the rushes And said the bank was
steep. - After they've gathered the water they need, Lizzie
pauses to pick some flowers ("flags" are a kind of flower). -
Lizzie also takes the time to notice the beautiful sunset – it
makes the distant "crags," or cliffs, glow. - Then Lizzie
reminds Laura that it's time to go in. Th