SHE waits for me at night, And will not let me go Alone to bed; Clutches me tight, And chokes my throat, her head Heavy upon my chest. By cunning, grim deceit, She clasps me to her breast, With lead weighs down my feet. With her hot breath She sears my face, Sighing of ills, and death. Dark wanton, false, In truth of sunlit day; Her perfidy exposed, Shamefaced, she slinks away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SPANISH FRIAR: 1-3. LOVE'S DESPAIR by JOHN DRYDEN A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 52 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN TITA'S TEARS; A FANTASY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE SUN IS DOWN by JOANNA BAILLIE A MOTHER'S HEART by CHRISTOPHER BANNISTER FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: LOVE IS WISER THAN AMBITION by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES TO S-----D (2) by WILLIAM BLAKE |