SHE is false, O Death, she is fair! Let me hide my head on thy knee; Blind mine eyes, dull mine ears, O Death! She hath broke my heart for me! Give me a perfect dream; Find me a rare, dim place; But let not her voice come nigh, And keep out her face -- her face! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PROLONGED SONNET: WHEN THE TROOPS WERE RETURNING FROM MILAN by NICCOLO DEGLI ALBIZZI LINES BY CLAUDIA by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE INVITATION by GEORGE HERBERT DEAD MAN'S DUMP by ISAAC ROSENBERG SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 45 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI CROSSING THE BAR by ALFRED TENNYSON |