Upon her breast her hands and hair Were tangled all together. The moon of June forbade me not -- The golden night time weather In balmy sighs commanded me To kiss them like a feather. Her looming hair, her burning hands, Were tangled black and white. My face I buried there. I pray -- So far from her to-night -- For grace, to dream I kiss her soul Amid the black and white. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BALLAD MADE AT THE REQUEST OF HIS MOTHER .. PRAY TO OUR LADY by FRANCOIS VILLON THE HUDSON by GEORGE SIDNEY HELLMAN SONNET: 86 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE EAST SIDE MOVING PICTURE THEATRE - SUNDAY by MAXWELL BODENHEIM TWO SKETCHES: 1. H.B. by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |