Though I turn, I fly not -- I cannot depart; I would try, but try not To release my heart. And my hopes are dying While, on dreams relying, I am spelled by art. Thus the bright snake coiling 'Neath the forest tree Wins the bird, beguiling To come down and see: Like that bird the lover Round his fate will hover Till the blow is over And he sinks -- like me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SIBERIA by JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN HALVING IT WITH WITHER by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS WITH MY FANCY by KONSTANTIN DMITRIYEVICH BALMONT SEA LAVENDER by LOUISE MOREY BOWMAN A FLOWER IN A LETTER by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |