WITH fetters gold her captivated feet Lay, sunny sweet; In that palm was the poppy, Sleep; in this The apple, Bliss; Against the Mild side of his Spouse and Mother One small God throve, and in't, meseem'd, another. By these a Death-in-Life did foully breathe Out of a face that was one grate of teeth. Lift, O kind Angels, lift her eyelids loth, Lest he devour her and her Godlets both! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...APPROACH OF WINTER by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS LAST LINES OF THOMAS INGOLDSBY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THE LITTLE HILL by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY A DOUBTING HEART by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER PLUTARCH by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS DRINKING; PARAPHRASED by ANACREON |