"IT was not you I came to please, Only myself," flipped she; "I like this spot of phantasies, And thought you far from me." But O, he was the secret spell That led her to the lea! "It was not she who shaped my ways, Or works, or thoughts," he said. "I scarcely marked her living days, Or missed her much when dead." But O, his joyance knew its knell When daisies hid her head! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BOOK OF STONES AND LILIES by AMY LOWELL EPILOGUE TO THE SATIRES: DIALOGUE 1 by ALEXANDER POPE THE CONFESSION by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM ELISABETTA SIRANI, 1665 by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |