FLORIBEL @3alone@1 And must I wake again? Oh come to me, Thou that with dew-cold fingers softly closest The wearied eye; thou sweet, thou gentle power, Soother of woe, sole friend of the oppressed, I long to lay me on thy peaceful breast. But once I saw thee, beautiful as moonlight, Upon a baby's lips, and thou didst kiss them, Lingering and oft, (As a wild bee doth kiss a rifled flower, And clips its waist, and drops a little tear, Remorsefully enamoured of his prey;) Come so to me, sweet death, and I will wreath thee An amorous chaplet for thy paly brows; And on an odoured bank of wan white buds In thy fair arms I'll lie, and taste thy cool delicious breath, And sleep, and sleep, and sleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CELIA'S HOMECOMING by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON A BALLAD UPON A WEDDING by JOHN SUCKLING ALAS! by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE EXILE by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA SALOME by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE |