The languorous thighs of the morning stretch themselves in sleep, and one eye just peers over the edge of white comforters, vaguely to discover the paramour flown, without plea of leave-taking or hypocritical excuse, to the Orient, as the fellow's shadow betrays: whither, with an irate mien and thighs sprouting wings, she pursues him: for, once you've had them, they're no longer backward, the women who forget they were ladies! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PALABRAS CARINOSAS (SPANISH AIR) by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PINE-TREES AND THE SKY: EVENING by RUPERT BROOKE ODE (MUSIC-MAKERS) by ARTHUR WILLIAM EDGAR O'SHAUGHNESSY THE LITTLE ONES GREATNESS by JOSEPH BEAUMONT BEES IN CLOVER; A SONG by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON A LARGE EVENING AT THE CLUB (AS IT WAS ONCE) by BERTON BRALEY |