I YEAR after year unto her feet, She lying on her couch alone, Across the purple coverlet, The maiden's jet-black hair has grown; On either side her tranced form Forth streaming from a braid of pearl; The slumberous light is rich and warm, And moves not on the rounded curl. II The silk star-broidered coverlid Unto her limbs itself doth mould, Languidly ever; and amid Her full black ringlets, downward rolled, Glows forth each softly-shadowed arm, With bracelets of the diamond bright. Her constant beauty doth inform Stillness with love, and day with light. III She sleeps: her breathings are not heard In palace chambers far apart. The fragrant tresses are not stirred That lie upon her charmed heart. She sleeps; on either hand upswells The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest: She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells A perfect form in perfect rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY DEARLING by ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN THIRTY BOB A WEEK by JOHN DAVIDSON SONNET: WRITTEN ON THE DAY THAT MR. LEIGH HUNT LEFT PRISON by JOHN KEATS ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 6. TO WILLIAM HALL, ESQ., WITH THE WORKS OF CHAULIEU by MARK AKENSIDE A GIFT OF SPRING by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |