To set my jealous soul at strife, All things maliciously agree, Though sleep of Death the image be, Dreams are the portraiture of life. I saw, when last I clos'd my eyes, Celinda stoop t' another's will; If specious Apprehension kill, What would the truth without disguise? The joys which I should call mine own, Methought this rival did possess: Like dreams is all my happiness; Yet dreams themselves allow me none. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...KEENAN'S CHARGE by GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP HILLS by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE POSSESSED by RUTH FITCH BARTLETT FULLNESS OF THE BIBLE by H. J. BETTS PRESIDENTIAL COTILLION by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |