WHEN I am riding round the ring no longer, Tell a tale of me; Say, no steed-borne woman's nerve was stronger Than used mine to be. Let your whole soul say it; do: O it will be true! Should I soon no more be mistress found in Feats I've made my own, Trace the tan-laid track you'd whip me round in On the cantering roan: There may cross your eyes again My lithe look as then. Show how I, when clay became my cover, Took the high-hoop leap Into your arms, who coaxed and grew my lover, -- Ah, to make me weep Since those claspings cared for so Ever so long ago! Though not now as when you freshly knew me, But a fading form, Shape the kiss you'd briskly blow up to me While our love was warm, And my cheek unstained by tears, As in these last years! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE REWARD by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON LONE DOG by IRENE RUTHERFORD MCLEOD THE FIRST PROCLAMATION OF MILES STANDISH [NOVEMBER 23, 1620] by MARGARET JUNKIN PRESTON MOLLY PITCHER [JUNE 28, 1778] by LAURA ELIZABETH HOWE RICHARDS THE AGE OF WISDOM by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY THE MAGI by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS PRAYER OF AN UNEMPLOYED MAN by W. C. ACKERLY TO HIS WORSHIPFULL WEL-WILLER, MAISTER EDWARD LEIGH by RICHARD BARNFIELD |