I was the west wind over the garden, Out of the twilit marge and deep; You were the sultry languorous flower, Famished and filled and laid to sleep. I was the rover bee, and you -- With the hot red mouth where a soul might drown, And the buoyant soul where a man might swim -- You were the blossom that drew me down. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CLOUDS: THE CLOUD CHORUS by ARISTOPHANES THE TENT ON THE BEACH: 5. THE CHANGELING by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER MEADOW-SAFFRON by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE BIRTHDAY LINES TO AGNES BAILLIE by JOANNA BAILLIE IN THE FOURTH WATCH by MYRON HENRY BROOMWELL THE DREADED TASK by MARGARET E. BRUNER |