Her flowing locks, the raven's wing, Adown her neck and bosom hing; How sweet unto that breast to cling, And round that neck entwine her! Her lips are roses wat wi' dew, O' what a feast her bonnie mou'! Her cheeks a mair celestial hue, A crimson still diviner! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...QUEST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TANGENTIAL by LOUIS UNTERMEYER TO FINE LADY WOULD-BE by BEN JONSON LAUGHING CORN by CARL SANDBURG A PORTRAIT by JOSEPH ASHBY-STERRY THE RWOSE IN THE DARK by WILLIAM BARNES THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: CONDEMNED ONES by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |