And Paris be it or Helen dying, Who dies soever, dies with pain. He that lacks breath and wind for sighing, His gall bursts on his heart; and then He sweats, God knows what sweat! again, No man may ease him of his grief; Child, brother, sister, none were fain To bail him thence for his relief. Death makes him shudder, swoon, wax pale, Nose bend, veins stretch, and breath surrender, Neck swell, flesh soften, joints that fail Crack their strained nerves and arteries slender. O woman's body found so tender, Smooth, sweet, so precious in men's eyes, Must thou too bear such count to render? Yes; or pass quick into the skies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...QUATRAIN: FATE by RALPH WALDO EMERSON HUDSON RIVER ANTHOLOGY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A PRESENCE by KENNETH SLADE ALLING TO A MISSIONARY, WHO ATTENDED ... MEETING OF BIBLE SOCIETY by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD IF I WERE YOU by CARRIE BURRINGTON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. SURELY THE TIME WILL COME by EDWARD CARPENTER |