SHE charged me with having said this and that To another woman long years before, In the very parlour where we sat, - Sat on a night when the endless pour Of rain on the roof and the road below Bent the spring of the spirit more and more.... - So charged she me; and the Cupid's bow Of her mouth was hard, and her eyes, and her face, And her white forefinger lifted slow. Had she done it gently, or shown a trace That not too curiously would she view A folly flown ere her reign had place, A kiss might have closed it. But I knew From the fall of each word, and the pause between, That the curtain would drop upon us two Ere long, in our play of slave and queen. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A WOMAN'S SHORTCOMINGS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 47 by PHILIP SIDNEY SONG OF YOUTH by LULU PIPER AIKEN TO ONE WHO ASKED by KENNETH SLADE ALLING THE GOLDEN AGE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |