I'LL ask the sylph who round thee flies, And in thy breath his pinion dips, Who suns him in thy lucent eyes, And faints upon thy sighing lips: I'll ask him where's the veil of sleep That used to shade thy looks of light; And why those eyes their vigil keep, When other suns are sunk in night. And I will say -- her angel breast Has never throbb'd with guilty sting; Her bosom is the sweetest nest Where Slumber could repose his wing! And I will say -- her cheeks of flame, Which glow like roses in the sun, Have never felt a blush of shame, Except for what her eyes have done! Then tell me, why, thou child of air! Does slumber from her eyelids rove? What is her heart's impassion'd care? -- Perhaps, O sylph! perhaps 'tis @3love!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CHRISTMAS CAROL (1) by GILBERT KEITH CHESTERTON TELL'S BIRTHPLACE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE GOOD NIGHT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S HOMER by JOHN KEATS THAT HOLY THING by GEORGE MACDONALD THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 6. THE KISS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE REPLY OF Q. HORATIUS FLACCUS TO A ROMAN 'ROUND-ROBIN' by ALFRED AUSTIN |