To-morrow, Julia, I betimes must rise, For some small fault, to offer sacrifice: The Altar's ready; Fire to consume The fat; breathe thou, and there's the rich perfume. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PRODIGAL SON by DAVID IGNATOW LOVELIGHT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO W.P.: 1 by GEORGE SANTAYANA FIRST BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 7 by THOMAS CAMPION THREE GRAINS OF CORN; THE IRISH FAMINE by AMELIA BLANDFORD EDWARDS PLAIN LANGUAGE FROM TRUTHFUL JAMES by FRANCIS BRET HARTE |