WHEN she comes home again! A thousand ways I fashion, to myself, the tenderness Of my glad welcome: I shall tremble -- yes; And touch her, as when first in the old days I touched her girlish hand, nor dared upraise Mine eyes, such was my faint heart's sweet distress. Then silence: and the perfume of her dress: The room will sway a little, and a haze Cloy eyesight -- soulsight, even -- for a space; And tears -- yes; and the ache here in the throat; To know that I so ill deserve the place Her arms make for me; and the sobbing note I stay with kisses, ere the tearful face Again is hidden in the old embrace. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE JOY OF WRITING by WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA HELIOTROPE by HARRY THURSTON PECK MAIDEN MELANCHOLY by RAINER MARIA RILKE CALIBAN [ON THE ISLAND], FR. THE TEMPEST by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE DAY-DREAM: MORAL by ALFRED TENNYSON THE TENT ON THE BEACH: 5. THE CHANGELING by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER ON MR. CHURCHILL'S SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY (NOVEMBER 30, 1944) by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB |