And will she never hold her tongue, About that feather in her hat; Her scarf, when she has done with that, And then the bangle on her wrist; And is my silence meant to make Her talk the more -- the more she's kissed? At last, with silence matching mine, She feels the passion deep and strong, That fears to trust a timid tongue. Say, Love -- that draws us close together -- Isn't she the very life of Death? No more of bangle, scarf or feather. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NAPEOLON'S FAREWELL; FROM THE FRENCH by GEORGE GORDON BYRON SUMMER DAYS by WATHEN MARK WILKS CALL HOME by LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA THE CARD-DEALER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI AUTUMN AND SPRING by JULIA COOLEY ALTROCCHI AN AUTUMNAL THOUGHT, 1795 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD CHARACTERS: ELIZABETH RIGBY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |