WHERE'ER She be, the distance ne'er so great, Mounted on sighs, thither my winged soul Does take its flight, and on her motions wait, True as magnetic needle to its pole. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLACK MONKEY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE LATE SINGER by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE ROAD NOT TAKEN by ROBERT FROST MADONNA OF THE EVENING FLOWERS by AMY LOWELL AUTUMN: A DIRGE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY TO R.K. by JAMES KENNETH STEPHEN YOUTH, DAY, OLD AGE AND NIGHT by WALT WHITMAN INSTRUCTIONS, SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN IN PARIS, FOR THE MOB IN ENGLAND by MARY (CUMBERLAND) ALCOCK |