Though I turn, I fly not -- I cannot depart; I would try, but try not To release my heart. And my hopes are dying While, on dreams relying, I am spelled by art. Thus the bright snake coiling 'Neath the forest tree Wins the bird, beguiling To come down and see: Like that bird the lover Round his fate will hover Till the blow is over And he sinks -- like me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMN: FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY: 2 by REGINALD HEBER THE DREARY CHANGE by WALTER SCOTT CAPTAIN TOM AND CAPTAIN HUGH by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN TWO BARDS by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON TO MISS A. T. by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |