'O thy flamed cheek, Those locks with weeping wet, Eyes that, forlorn and meek, On mine are set. 'Poor hands, poor feeble wings, Folded, a-droop, O sad! See, 'tis my heart that sings To make thee glad. 'My mouth breathes love, thou dear. All that I am and know Is thine. My breast -- draw near: Be grieved not so!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DAY DREAM by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE I SIT AND SEW by ALICE RUTH MOORE DUNBAR-NELSON PHILOSOPHY by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS THE FINAL FREEDOM by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON IN THE DARK by FRANCES LOUISA BUSHNELL |