WITH fetters gold her captivated feet Lay, sunny sweet; In that palm was the poppy, Sleep; in this The apple, Bliss; Against the Mild side of his Spouse and Mother One small God throve, and in't, meseem'd, another. By these a Death-in-Life did foully breathe Out of a face that was one grate of teeth. Lift, O kind Angels, lift her eyelids loth, Lest he devour her and her Godlets both! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOOD-BYE DOROTHY GAYLE: HOME TO FARGO by KAREN SWENSON MEMORY by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR FIVE LITTLE WANDERINGS: 2. CHILDHOOD by BERTON BRALEY SKETCH - PORTRAIT OF CREECH THE BOOKSELLER by ROBERT BURNS |