As I was passing by A vine, its tendrils tugged my sleeve. 'Do you design', said I, 'My body so to grieve?' 'Why do you pass', the vine Replied, 'and never greeting make? It took this blood of mine Your thirsting bones to slake.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WIDOW AT WINDSOR by RUDYARD KIPLING BELLS FOR JOHN WHITESIDE'S DAUGHTER by JOHN CROWE RANSOM A PRAYER by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) BLUE HOURS: 1. CLOUD-HORSE by RICK BAROT EPITAPH ON A CAT by JOACHIM DU BELLAY TO CHILDREN: 6. BIRDS OF THE AIR by WILLIAM ROSE BENET A DIALOGUE ON NATUREM POWER AND USE OF HUMAN LEARNING, IN RELIGION by JOHN BYROM |