HIS constant wonder keeps him back From flying either far or straight; Confined by thy great beauty here, My life is like that butterfly's, With every source of wonder near. Let me go burning to my death: Nothing can come between our minds To ease me of this passion's greed: We'll bite each other's necks like dogs, And ask our fingers if we bleed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SCHOLAR GIPSY by MATTHEW ARNOLD SONNET: 78 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE SIR LANCELOT AND QUEEN GUINEVERE by ALFRED TENNYSON THE SWORD by ABU BAKR OF MARRAKESH SONGS OF NIGHT TO MORNING: 5 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |