Your voice keeps ringing down the day In accents soft and mild, With which you have beguiled And wooed me as a child. Your presence bounds my every way And thrills me in its fold With phantom hands that hold Like cherished chains of gold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A VALEDICTION: OF WEEPING by JOHN DONNE THE OLD VIOLIN by MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN ODE ON THE PLEASURE ARISING FROM VICISSITUDE by THOMAS GRAY OVERLOOKING THE RIVER STOUR by THOMAS HARDY JUDGE NOT by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 9 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE RE-CURED LOVER EXULTETH IN HIS FREEDOM by THOMAS WYATT |