AH, God, the way your little finger moved As you thrust a bare arm backward And made play with your hair And a comb a silly gilt comb Ah, God -- that I should suffer Because of the way a little finger moved. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INSCRIPTION FOR A FOUNTAIN ON A HEATH by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE ASSAULT HEROIC by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES ENDYMION by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO BARON DE STONNE.....TO FIND HIMSELF BETWEEN by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD INTRODUCTORY VERSES TO MARIA HACK by BERNARD BARTON THE LAUGHING WOMAN by WILLIAM ROSE BENET KING HERMANDIAZ by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |