I PROMISED no reproach, Elise, Though all thy flimsy vows were fickle; My slender-necked anemones Have perished by thy crafty sickle: Well! let them go, though soiled and stolen, And headless, too, as Anna Boleyn— Ay, let them go, though debonair With hazel, poppy-perfumed hair. I'll not reproach, Elise, but I Will make my malediction lie Upon thee, feathery as a sigh; Till from abysmal peaks of woe My curse shall shroud thee with its snow; Softly upon that forehead fair, Crisping the poppy-perfumed hair, Its winnowing ice-birds lilt and go,— But @3no reproach,@1 Elise, oh no— Only the rustle of the snow! 'Twill skim thy throat not rude or redly— Its dapper feet, Slippered with sleet, Shall into thy bonnet and bosom retreat With a stinging like snow, Which is woe— Only my curse, my curse you know! Not rude or redly— Nothing but snow! As shy—as smooth—as cool—as slow— As deadly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PARADOX by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON JOE HILL LISTENS TO THE PRAYING by KENNETH PATCHEN GOOD-BYE DOROTHY GAYLE: OVER THE MACKINAC by KAREN SWENSON GLADYS AND HER ISLAND; AN IMPERFECT TALE WITH DOUBTFUL MORAL by JEAN INGELOW PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 70, 71. MUKADDIM, MUWAKHIR by EDWIN ARNOLD |