So looks Anthea, when in bed she lyes, Orecome, or halfe betray'd by Tiffanies: Like to a Twi-light, or that simpring Dawn, That Roses shew, when misted o're with Lawn. Twilight is yet, till that her Lawnes give way; Which done, that Dawne, turnes then to perfect day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRAYER OF A SOLDIER IN FRANCE by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER AULD ROBIN GRAY by ANNE LINDSAY SONNET: 8. WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED TO THE CITY by JOHN MILTON THE MEDITATION OF THE OLD FISHERMAN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS STRADA'S NIGHTINGALE by VINCENT BOURNE LITTLE THINGS by EBENEZER COBHAM BREWER THE ROCK OF LIBERTY; A PILGRIM ODE, 1620-1920: 2. STRUGGLE by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. AMONG THE FERNS by EDWARD CARPENTER |