I know a seraph who has golden eyes, And hair of gold, and body like the snow. Here in the wind I dream her unbound hair Is blowing round me, that desire's sweet glow Has touched her pale keen face, and willful mien. And though she steps as one in manner born To tread the forests of fair Paradise, Dark memory's wood she chooses to adorn. Here with bowed head, bashful with half-desire She glides into my yesterday's deep dream, All glowing by the misty ferny cliff Beside the far forbidden thundering stream. Within my dream I shake with the old flood. I fear its going, ere the spring days go. Yet pray the glory may have deathless years, And kiss her hair, and sweet throat like the snow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CONTRACT by EMILY DICKINSON THE STORY OF AUGUSTUS WHO WOULD NOT HAVE ANY SOUP by HEINRICH HOFFMANN THE VANITY OF THE WORLD by FRANCIS QUARLES ON PASSING THE NEW MENIN GATE by SIEGFRIED SASSOON THE OLD SERGEANT by BYRON FORCEYTHE WILLSON ANYWHERE OUT OF THE WORLD by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE ON SEEING AN OLD POET IN THE CAFE ROYAL by JOHN BETJEMAN |