'Tis Christmas weather, and a country house Receives us: rooms are full: we can but get An attic-crib. Such lovers will not fret At that, it is half-said. The great carouse Knocks hard upon the midnight's hollow door, But when I knock at hers, I see the pit. Why did I come here in that dullard fit? I enter, and lie couched upon the floor. Passing, I caught the coverlet's quick beat: -- Come, Shame, burn to my soul! and Pride, and Pain -- Foul demons that have tortured me, enchain! Out in the freezing darkness the lambs bleat. The small bird stiffens in the low starlight. I know not how, but shuddering as I slept, I dreamed a banished angel to me crept: My feet were nourished on her breasts all night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BREST LEFT BEHIND by JOHN CHIPMAN FARRAR THE LOVER COMFORTETH HIMSELF WITH THE WORTHINESS OF HIS LOVE by HENRY HOWARD A TERRE (BEING THE PHILOSOPHY OF MANY SOLDIERS) by WILFRED OWEN THE IDEA by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1877 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO SAN FRANCISCO by SAMUEL JOHN ALEXANDER |