I breathed enough to take the Trick - And now, removed from Air - I simulate the Breath, so well - That One, to be quite sure - The Lungs are stirless - must descend Among the Cunning Cells - And touch the Pantomine - Himself, How numb, the Bellows feels! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 110 by PHILIP SIDNEY A SOUL'S SOLILOQUY by WENONAH STEVENS ABBOTT THE IVORY CRADLE by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER THREE THINGS by CHRISTOPHER BANNISTER A ROSE by CHARLES GRANGER BLANDEN THE TWENTY-SECOND OF DECEMBER by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT EPIGRAM TO MISS AINSLIE IN CHURCH by ROBERT BURNS ENTERTAINMENT GIVEN BY LORD KNOWLES: SONG 3 by THOMAS CAMPION |