WHEN Phoebe form'd a wanton smile, My soul! it reach'd not here! Strange, that thy peace, thou trembler, flies Before a rising tear! From midst the drops, my love is born, That o'er those eyelids rove: Thus issued from a teeming wave The fabled queen of love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE ON THE SPRING by THOMAS GRAY ARABELLA STUART by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 50. AL-BAHITH by EDWIN ARNOLD THE SHADOWED ROAD by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE FADELESS CANVAS by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN YOUR NEIGHBOR by H. HOWARD BIGGAR |