Upon her breast her hands and hair Were tangled all together. The moon of June forbade me not -- The golden night time weather In balmy sighs commanded me To kiss them like a feather. Her looming hair, her burning hands, Were tangled black and white. My face I buried there. I pray -- So far from her to-night -- For grace, to dream I kiss her soul Amid the black and white. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A NEW HYMN by KATHERINE MANSFIELD CAPUT MORTUUM by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON LIFE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE A HYMN [TO THE NAME AND] IN HONOR OF SAINT TERESA by RICHARD CRASHAW DANSE RUSSE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 8. BE QUICK AND SURE by PHILIP AYRES TO BARON DE STONNE WITH AIKIN'S ESSAYS ON SONG-WRITING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |