MY HEAD is at your feet, Two Cytherean doves, The same, O cruel sweet, As were the Queen of Love's; They brush my dreaming brows With silver fluttering beat, Here in your golden house, Beneath your feet. No man that draweth breath Is in such happy case: My heart to itself saith -- Though kings gaze on her face, I would not change my place; To lie here is more sweet, Here at her feet. As one in a green land Beneath a rose-bush lies, Two petals in his hand, With shut and dreaming eyes, And hears the rustling stir, As the young morning goes, Shaking abroad the myrrh Of each awakened rose; So to me lying there Comes the soft breath of her, -- O cruel sweet! -- There at her feet. O little careless feet That scornful tread Upon my dreaming head, As little as the rose Of him who lies there knows Nor of what dreams may be Beneath your feet: Know you of me, Ah! dreams of your fair head, Its golden treasure spread, And all your moonlit snows, Yea! all your beauty's rose That blooms to-day so fair And smells so sweet -- Shoulders of ivory, And breasts of myrrh -- Under @3my@1 feet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HIS CAVALIER by ROBERT HERRICK THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM by ROBERT SOUTHEY TRAILING ARBUTUS by HENRY ABBEY MY DEAREST JULIA by WILLIAM BARNES LITANY TO SATAN by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE BRIDES' TRAGEDY: ACT 1, SCENE 1 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |