I FLUNG me round him, I drew him under; I clung, I drown'd him, My own white wonder!... Father and mother, Weeping and wild, Came to the forest, Calling the child, Came from the palace, Down to the pool, Calling my darling, My beautiful! Under the water, Cold and so pale! Could it be love made Beauty to fail? Ah me for mortals! In a few moons, If I had left him, After some Junes He would have faded, Faded away, He, the young monarch, whom All would obey, Fairer than day; Alien to springtime, Joyless and gray, He would have faded, Faded away, Moving a mockery, Scorn'd of the day! Now I have taken him All in his prime, Saved from slow poisoning Pitiless Time, Fill'd with his happiness, One with the prime, Saved from the cruel Dishonour of Time. Laid him, my beautiful, Laid him to rest, Loving, adorable, Softly to rest, Here in my crystalline, Here in my breast! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE WAR IS KIND: 21 by STEPHEN CRANE ANGEL OR WOMAN by THOMAS PARNELL HOPEFULLY WAITING by ANSON DAVIES FITZ RANDOLPH IDYLLS OF THE KING: GERAINT AND ENID by ALFRED TENNYSON THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET by SAMUEL WOODWORTH THE ROSE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |