"LADY BLESSINGTON!" cried the glad usher aloud, As she swam through the doorway, like moon from a cloud. I know not which most her face beam'd with,—fine creature! Enjoyment, or judgment, or wit, or good-nature. Perhaps you have known what it is to feel longings To pat buxom shoulders at routs and such throngings;— Well,—think what it was, at a vision like that! A Grace after dinner!—a Venus grown fat. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER THE RAIN by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH YOU ON THE TOWER by THOMAS HARDY A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 44 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE WHITE HOUSE by CLAUDE MCKAY THE GREEK AT CONSTANTINOPLE by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES LOCHABER NO MORE by ALLAN RAMSAY THE MOON by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON |