They say that poison-sprinkled flowers Are sweeter in perfume Than when, untouched by deadly dew, They glowed in early bloom. They say that men condemned to die Have quaffed the sweetened wine With higher relish than the juice Of the untampered vine. They say that in the witch's song, Though rude and harsh it be, There blends a wild, mysterious strain Of weirdest melody. And I believe the devil's voice Sinks deeper in our ear Than any whisper sent from Heaven, However sweet and clear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON READING -- . by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH IMITATIONS OF HORACE: ODE IV, 1 by ALEXANDER POPE THE DOLLS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS PRAYER FOR A BOY WITH A KITE by DOROTHY P. ALBAUGH THE NEW JERUSALEM by AUGUSTINE PICTOR IGNOTUS by ROBERT BROWNING FOR A CERTAIN BELOVED GENTLEMAN by MARGARET E. BRUNER |