BY Celia's arbour all the night Hang, humid wreath, the lover's vow; And haply, at the morning light, My love shall twine thee round her brow. Then if, upon her bosom bright, Some drops of dew shall fall from thee, Tell her, they are not drops of night, But tears of sorrow shed by me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CORN-LAW HYMN by EBENEZER ELLIOTT TO MY NOSE by ALFRED HENRY FORRESTER THE FIFTEEN ACRES by JAMES STEPHENS COME UP FROM THE FIELDS FATHER by WALT WHITMAN MOCK EPITAPH ON MR. AND MRS. ESTLIN by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD VERSES TO HER WHO IS JUSTLY ENTITLED TO THEM by BERNARD BARTON AT THE GRAVE OF DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI by H. T. MACKENZIE BELL |