My soule would one day goe and seeke For Roses, and in Julia's cheeke, A richess of those sweets she found, (As in an other Rosamond.) But gathering Roses as she was; (Not knowing what would come to passe) It chanst a ringlet of her haire, Caught my poore soule, as in a snare: Which ever since has been in thrall, Yet freedome, shee enjoyes withall. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A HYMN FOR PROCESSION WITH CROSS AND BANNERS by SABINE BARING-GOULD TO JOHN DONNE (1) by BEN JONSON DAYBREAK by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW OVERTURE TO A DANCE OF LOCOMOTIVES by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE IRISH MOTHER'S LAMENT by CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER PETITION OF A SCHOOLBOY TO HIS FATHER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |