When I in praise of babies speak, She coldly smiles like winter's snow, And looks on me with no soft eye: Yet I have seen her kiss them so, Her wealth of rapture made them cry. Sometimes it seems her blood's too cold For Love to even wet his toes, Much less to paddle all about; But when she's kissed till her eyes close, That god is warmer in than out. I laugh, when she for other men Confesses love; but when she says She hated one man she could kill, My heart is all one jealous blaze, For, pity me, she hates him still! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DE LITTLE PICKANINNY'S GONE TO SLEEP by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON MOTHER NIGHT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE FLAMING HEART by RICHARD CRASHAW DICKENS IN CAMP by FRANCIS BRET HARTE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 11 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE DYING SWAN by ALFRED TENNYSON OF MAN'S MORTALITY by SIMON WASTELL THREE SONGS OF LOVE (CHINESE FASHION): 3. LOVE CALL by WILLIAM A. BEATTY |