HER name is at my tongue, whene'er I speak, Her shape's before my eyes where'er I stir; Both day and night, as if her ghost did walk, And not she me, but I had murder'd her. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 33 by JAMES JOYCE SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MINERVA JONES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE RHINOCEROS by HILAIRE BELLOC COLORS by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET GREEN MOUNTAIN IDYL by HAYDEN CARRUTH IN QUEST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |