In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm- Pink, lank and warm- But as he was a worm And worms presume Not quite with him at home- Secured him by a string To something neighboring And went along. A Trifle afterward A thing occurred I'd not believe it if I heard But state with creeping blood- A snake with mottles rare Surveyed my chamber floor In feature as the worm before But ringed with power- The very string with which I tied him-too When he was mean and new That string was there- I shrank-"How fair you are"! Propitiation's claw- "Afraid," he hissed "Of me"? "No cordiality"- He fathomed me- Then to a Rhythm Slim Secreted in his Form As Patterns swim Projected him. That time I flew Both eyes his way Lest he pursue Nor ever ceased to run Till in a distant Town Towns on from mine I set me down This was a dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE GOOD NIGHT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE SAND-MAN by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE PORTRAIT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI ODE ON THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON by ALFRED TENNYSON KNOWLEDGE AFTER DEATH by HENRY CHARLES BEECHING THE HAUNTED HOUSE by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN BEFORE AND AFTER by OLIVER MADOX BROWN THE LAST CRUSADER by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON |