O what to me the little room That was brimmed up with prayer and rest; He bade me out into the gloom, And my breast lies upon his breast. O what to me my mother's care, The house where I was safe and warm; The shadowy blossom of my hair Will hide us from the bitter storm. O hiding hair and dewy eyes, I am no more with life and death, My heart upon his warm heart lies, My breath is mized into his breath. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 5 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE TO SPAIN - A LAST WORD by EDITH MATILDA THOMAS ICHABOD by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER JOLLY NOSE by WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH EPITAPH ON A CAT by JOACHIM DU BELLAY |