Her delicate form scarce dimples in the bed Where she all night has lain. She is as frail and fragrant as a flower After an April rain. I wish I had not pictured her a flower -- A flower is but a sigh Of wonderment at beauty that so soon Expends itself to die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE BLACK-EYED REBEL by WILLIAM MCKENDREE CARLETON AGAINST HOPE by ABRAHAM COWLEY PASSING BY by THOMAS FORD (1580-1648) THE VIRGIN'S SLUMBER SONG by JOSEPH FRANCIS CARLIN MACDONNELL THE BALLAD OF BOUILLABAISSE by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY ON THE BEACH AT EVENING by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE WHERE IS ARCADY? by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |