Madam would speak with me. So, now it comes: The Deluge or else Fire! She's well; she thanks My husbandship. Our chain on silence clanks. Time leers between, above his twiddling thumbs. Am I quite well? Most excellent in health! The journals, too, I diligently peruse. Vesuvius is expected to give news: Niagara is no noisier. By stealth Our eyes dart scrutinizing snakes. She's glad I'm happy, says her quivering under-lip. 'And are not you?' 'How can I be?' 'Take ship! For happiness is somewhere to be had.' 'Nowhere for me!' Her voice is barely heard. I am not melted, and make no pretence. With commonplace I freeze her, tongue and sense. Niagara or Vesuvius is deferred. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE HOME STRETCH by ROBERT FROST THE MEETING by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER ELEGIAC STANZAS SUGGESTED BY A PICTURE OF PEELE CASTLE, IN A STORM by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH KEEPERS OF THE SUN by DOROTHY P. ALBAUGH TO ATHENA by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE THE PLAYERS by FRANCIS LAWRENCE BICKLEY SUNRISE OVER THE SIERRAS by HENRY MEADE BLAND THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 101. AGE: 2 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |