WHEN in the tomb, my mistress fair, The chilly tomb, thou must hide thee, I'll soon descend to rejoin thee there, And fondly nestle beside thee. I wildly will press thee, embrace thee, and kiss My pale, cold, fearful-to-see love! I'll tremble, weep, shout with rapturous bliss, And soon be a corpse like thee, love. The dead will arise, when midnight is nigh, And dance in airy troops lightly; But we in the tomb will quietly lie, Thine arms embracing me tightly. The dead will arise, when the loud trump of doom To bliss or to torment is calling; But regardless of all, we'll remain in the tomb, Still clasp'd in embraces enthralling. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHAT THING A BIRD WOULD LOVE by ROBERT FROST VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 11. HAMBURG by SARA TEASDALE ON ENGLISH MONSIEUR by BEN JONSON THE WIDOW'S MITE by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON TO W. HOHENZOLLERN: A PLEA by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS MEN OF HARLAN by WILLIAM ASPENWALL BRADLEY |