My soule would one day goe and seeke For Roses, and in Julia's cheeke, A richess of those sweets she found, (As in an other Rosamond.) But gathering Roses as she was; (Not knowing what would come to passe) It chanst a ringlet of her haire, Caught my poore soule, as in a snare: Which ever since has been in thrall, Yet freedome, shee enjoyes withall. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SICKNESS by CHARLES BUKOWSKI CINQUAIN: SUSANNA AND THE ELDERS by ADELAIDE CRAPSEY MOTLEY by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE ANGELUS; HEARD AT THE MISSION DOLORES IN SAN FRANCISCO, 1868 by FRANCIS BRET HARTE THE INVITATION by GEORGE HERBERT |