WHEN he hath had A letter from his lady dear, he bless'd The paper that her hand had travell'd over, And her eye look'd on, and would think he saw Gleams of that light she lavish'd from her eyes, Wandering amid the words of love she'd traced Like glowworms among beds of flowers. He seem'd To bear with being but because she loved him; She was the sheath wherein his soul had rest, As hath a sword from war. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |