But in warm arms as fragrant as of old Venus received him,—and she lulled to sleep The weary soul, and made soft darkness deep Over and round him with her hair of gold. She kissed the dead pale lips that, loud and bold, Had sung of her where England's wild waves leap:— The mouth that by green down and chalky steep, Fatigueless ever, her renown had told. And this was his reward,—the eternal kiss Of Venus, and her arms wherein to rest, And the soft fragrance of her perfect breast. This was his heaven of old-world endless bliss. What did it matter if a world forsook, When in white deathless clasp his soul she took! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE WRITTEN IN [THE BEGINNING OF THE YEAR] 1746 by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) WITH A COPY OF HERRICK by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE THE MENAGERIE by WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY THE DESERTED LOVER CONSOLETH HIMSELF ... by THOMAS WYATT THE GROANS OF THE TANKARD by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE MERCHANT OF VENICE; A LEGEND OF ITALY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |