IN slumber, I prithee, how is it That souls are oft taking the air, And paying each other a visit, While bodies are -- Heaven knows where? Last night, 'tis in vain to deny it, Your Soul took a fancy to roam, For I heard her, on tiptoe so quiet, Come ask, whether @3mine@1 was at home. And mine let her in with delight, And they talk'd and they kiss'd the time through, For, when souls come together at night, There is no knowing what they mayn't do! And @3your@1 little Soul, Heaven bless her! Had much to complain and to say, Of how sadly you wrong and oppress her By keeping her prison'd all day. "If I happen," said she, "but to steal For a peep now and then to her eye, Or, to quiet the fever I feel, Just venture abroad on a sigh; "In an instant she frightens me in With some phantom of prudence or terror, For fear I should stray into sin, Or, what is still worse, into error! "So, instead of displaying my graces Through look and through words and through mien, I am shut up in corners and places, Where truly I blush to be seen!" Upon hearing this piteous confession, @3My@1 Soul, looking tenderly at her, Declared, as for grace and discretion, He did not know much of the matter; "But to-morrow, sweet Spirit!" he said, "Be at home after midnight, and then I will come when your lady's in bed, And we'll talk o'er the subject again." So she whisper'd a word in his ear, I suppose to her door to direct him, And -- just after midnight, my dear, Your polite little Soul may expect him. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEJECTION: AN ODE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE CROSSING THE PLAINS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER THE CLIFF SWALLOWS by DEBRA NYSTROM ON A CURATE'S COMPLAINT OF HARD DUTY by JONATHAN SWIFT THE GYPSY by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS OUT FROM BEHIND THIS MASK by WALT WHITMAN EPITAPH by KENNETH SLADE ALLING |