SHE wrapped her soul in a lace of lies, With a prime deceit to pin it; And I thought I was gaining a fearsome prize, So I staked my soul to win it. We wed and parted on her complaint, And both were a bit of barter, Tho' I'll confess that I'm no saint, I'll swear that she's no martyr. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHERE MY BOOKS GO by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ODE TO SPRING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD LAMENT FOR FLODDEN [FIELD] by JEAN ELLIOT (1727-1805) THE CHERRY TREES by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS ALMOND BLOSSOM by EDWIN ARNOLD A SONNET. THE ROSE AND LILY by PHILIP AYRES ON THE LOSS OF A PIOUS FRIEND by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |