COME to me, dearest! Oh, I cannot bear These barren words of worship that to each The other utters. In the finer speech Of soft caresses let our souls declare Their opulence of love; for while instead We linger prattling, kind Occasion slips, Leaving to pensive sighs the pallid lips That else for pleasure had been ruby red. Thanks! darling, thanks! Ah, happier than a king In all beatitude of royal bliss Is he whose mouth (again! oh perfect kiss!) May thus unto thine own with rapture cling; For very joy of love content to live Unquestioning if Love have more to give! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THOMAS MOORE (1) by GEORGE GORDON BYRON SPEAKIN' O' CHRISTMAS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 4. THE MOON'S ORCHESTRA by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER NO LONGER COULD I DOUBT HIM TRUE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE BLUE-FLAG IN THE BOG by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 4 by EZRA POUND SONG AT THE FEAST OF BROUGHAM CASTLE; UPON RSTORATION OF LORD CLIFFORD by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |